


Stone Walls

by Arionrhod



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-21
Updated: 2009-07-21
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9980738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arionrhod/pseuds/Arionrhod
Summary: A defiant Remus rescues Severus from Azkaban, intending to offer him freedom in exchange for a service, but he finds out that there are far more confining prisons than those with bars and walls.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Although legions of soul-sucking Dementors no longer served as the jailers of the condemned souls held within its cold, bare cells, Azkaban Prison was not what anyone would think of as a good place to be - even by choice.

The plain, high wall of weathered grey stone which greeted Remus upon his arrival was bad enough, looking as it did like something made deliberately forbidding as much to keep people out as to hold the criminals in. Passing through the gates was worse, the atmosphere of the interior feeling heavy, almost as though the very air was permeated with the suffering to which it had borne witness. The wolf within Remus hated confinement, and he felt it stirring restlessly within him, unsettled and uncomfortable, making Remus have to fight his own instinct to flee this cursed place.

He wasn't about to turn back now, however; he had risked far too much, and it was definitely too late to change his mind. Events had been set in motion which could not be stopped, everything culminating in the task he was here to perform. Everything he wanted from life had come down to what happened in the next hour, and for good or ill, his first step through Azkaban's gates had already sealed his fate.

A short distance beyond the warded gates was a desk, and Remus raised a brow at the bored looking guard who lounged back in a straight wooden chair, twirling his wand between his fingers. "Yeah?" he asked, giving Remus a disinterested look.

The incredible laxness was something Remus was counting on, but that would be more important getting back out than convincing them to let him in. He had made discrete inquiries during the last few months, discovering that Azkaban wasn't quite the place it had been during the war. It wasn't just the departure of the Dementors, but the lack of funding and attention from the Ministry. A certain lesson had been learned after the first War, and the Ministry had executed those Wizards who were considered to be dangerous to society; now the only souls within Azkaban's walls were those considered "redeemable", or who had, for one reason or another, been considered not quite "bad" enough to forfeit their lives.

"I'm here to visit a prisoner," he said, facing the guard directly and giving him a stern look.

"Oh?" the guard replied, sounding completely disinterested, the wand still weaving its idle pattern through the man's thick fingers. "And just who are you? There's only on visiting day per month, and it's not for another two weeks."

Really, this was more than Remus could have hoped for, and he put his hands flat on the desk, leaning over it in a menacing way. "I'm Remus Lupin, here on Ministry business. Any more questions?"

The guard's eyes had widened when Remus leaned over, but they almost bugged out of his head when Remus gave his name. It was the one time since the end of the war that Remus actually relished the notoriety his part in the war - and Harry's all too vocal praises - had earned him. Order of Merlin, First Class, official thanks of the Ministry of Magic, plus a citation from the Muggle Prime Minister of England for helping save countless Muggles from infection by Greyback and his pack; it was enough to have made Remus die of embarrassment, if it weren't for the fact that it all included a stipend that had raised Remus out of his long-standing poverty and a job in the Ministry Department of Non-Human Affairs. 

"Mr... Lupin?" The guard stumbled over the name, and his feet fell from the desk with a thump as he drew himself upright, brushing at his dingy blue uniform robe and suddenly trying to look like an efficient civil servant. As well he should, given that Remus was a close personal friend of not only The Boy Who Saved the World, but of the new Deputy Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley. Remus actually had respect within the Wizarding World now, but for the first time in his life, he didn't give a bloody damn what anyone thought about him; it was the ultimate irony, but it was also useful. "I... I'm sorry, sir. Who did you want to see? I'm sure that you don't fall under the class of normal visitors."

Remus contemplated the man for a moment longer, letting his gaze bore through the hapless man. Then he relented, a small smile curving his mouth; given what the poor sod was in store for soon, it wasn't necessary to give him any more grief than necessary. "I want to speak with Severus Snape," he said, straightening up and letting his hands fall to his sides. "Thank you, I would appreciate that. I have some questions for him, and time is of the essence."

Everything Remus said was the complete truth, but he hoped that the guard would draw the unspoken conclusion that it was official business - and apparently he did, for the guard rose to his feet at once, suddenly as cooperative as he had been lazy.

"Yes, sir," he said, walking around the side of his desk, then stopping and giving Remus an uncertain look. "Er... I'm sorry, but even for you, sir, I must ask for your wand. It's a matter of security, you know, and your own safety."

"Of course," Remus said with a gracious smile, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wand. He handed it over with aplomb, relieved that the guard had asked without being prompted. Remus knew the proper procedure, and it was important to his plans that the guard take his wand.

"Thank you." All business now, the guard turned to place the wand in his desk, then pulled out a visitor log and offer Remus a quill, which he accepted. He signed in, then placed the quill on the book, pretending absorption on his own thoughts as the guard went about putting away the log and locking the desk. One more hurdle - well, one more right now, at least - would get him where he wanted to be, and it was this point at which calm detachment was most crucial. Once his dutiful instincts had been aroused, Remus needed for the guard to do the minimal necessary - like taking his wand - and nothing more.

Tension coiled within him as the guard straightened and frowned thoughtfully, looking at Remus as though making a decision. The space of one heartbeat, then another, and then the guard nodded, turning and gesturing for Remus to follow him.

It took an effort not to sigh in relief. Remus thought he had prepared well enough, but there was always the chance that he had overlooked something, or that someone else would think of something Remus hadn't and thereby put paid to everything. But not this time, it seemed, and Remus was grateful to fate for that small mercy. Not that he was in the clear yet, but success suddenly seemed closer.

The guard had obviously wanted to ask what Remus could want with Snape, of all people, but fortunately, Remus hadn't been required to use the lie he had thought up to cover that contingency. It was best to keep things to the absolute truth, so that when the guard had his memories sifted - as he most assuredly would, if Remus was successful - there would be no question afterward about whether he had more in mind than asking some questions and going on his way once more. No suspicion that law-abiding hero Remus Lupin intended something else entirely.

Following the guard through a locked and warded gate, Remus paid attention to the surroundings, looking about as any curious first-time visitor might, although he was more interested in any magical defenses or unexpected protections he might see. It was even gloomier and more oppressive the further they went into the prison, and once again, Remus had to clamp down on the instincts of the wolf, even as his human side began to agree that getting out and soon was an absolute necessity for his mental health.

Winding corridors of dank stone, a musty smell like dried tears permeated the air, and it was cold, so cold that Remus shivered even in his heavy robes. Then they stopped before a cell, and the guard turned to look at Remus.

"Here he is," he said, gesturing inside. Remus looked in, resisting the urge to draw in a horrified breath.

Severus Snape sat on the bare floor, garbed in a shapeless grey something that might once have been a robe, but now looked more like the dingy tea towel a house elf might have worn. It barely covered his loins, hanging in straggling, unravelling threads from his shoulders and gaping in a hole over his emaciated chest. Remus could count every rib, and Severus' head hung down, lank, filthy hair obscuring his face. He didn't seem to care that he had visitors, and Remus wasn't certain that Severus had even noticed they were there. He was the perfect picture of abject hopelessness and despair, a derelict, decaying nightmare made all the more poignant for Remus' memories of the man he had been just a few months prior, standing proud and tall at his trial, black eyes cold, not even flinching when his sentence was read.

Remus had expected to be faced with sullen anger, with hostility, with Snape, not with... this. His heart lurched in his chest in horrified sympathy, and he gestured to the guard.

"Open the door. I want to go in."

There was hesitation on the guard's face. "Sir... I don't suggest that. We're not supposed..."

"I don't care what you aren't supposed to do," Remus replied grimly, barely keeping a lupine growl from rising in his throat. "I need to talk to him, and it is bloody obvious he isn't going to be able to answer any questions in that state. Open the cell, and then I want a blanket and a healing potion from the infirmary. And don't tell me about the budget, or about whatever piss-poor excuse for a healer you have who isn't taking adequate care of the prisoners. Rest assured that I'll be taking this up with Deputy Minister Weasley when I'm finished here!"

A sullen denial was in the guard's eyes, but when Remus mentioned the Ministry, suddenly the man was cooperative. Pulling his wand, he unlocked the door, and Remus stepped inside quickly, kneeling on the floor next to Severus. He was relieved to hear shallow breaths coming from the withered form, since Remus wasn't entirely sure that Severus hadn't died in that spot, upright, and no one had noticed. Glancing up at the guard, Remus gestured at him with an imperious motion. "Go on, get what I requested. You have five minutes, do you understand? Five, and then I'm coming after you!"

The guard vanished so fast it was almost as though he had Apparated, and the countdown began - not for him, but for Remus. Severus' condition was horrible, and there was little time to set up for their escape. Remus had originally thought he would have to spend part of the time arguing with Severus over what he intended to do, but now, in a rather mixed blessing, that was a moot point.

"God," Remus muttered, shaking his head as he stood, reaching into his robes and pulling out a flask. He contemplated it for a moment, then decided following through on his original plan was probably best option, even given Severus' state. He was Severus Snape, after all, and people would believe him capable of anything at all; even killing Remus Lupin and then disappearing without a trace.

Uncorking the flask, Remus reaching into another pocket of his robe, pulling a second wand from a hidden, warded area within. This was the part he had been most worried about, the guard searching him and somehow happening upon it by sheer bad fortune. But he hadn't, and now Remus used it to conjure a quick spell, sending the scarlet contents of the flask about the cell, splashing against walls and floor in careful patterns, all the way up to the barred window which overlooked the sullen gray of the sea.

That done, he pocketed the flask and turned to Severus, kneeling down next to him once more. He needed a small amount of Severus' blood as well, and it looked as though the man had damned little extra to spare. 

Severus hadn't moved at all while Remus had been about his task, and Remus drew in a breath, trying not to notice how bad the man smelled. "Severus. Listen to me. It's Lupin.Do you hear me? I've come to get you out of here, but I need your help just for a moment. I need some of your blood to make this work."

There was no response to Remus' soft words, and, unfortunately, time was running out. Whatever trauma Severus was suffering from, Remus didn't have the time to coax him into cooperation. He hated to do something against Severus' will, but at the moment, Remus couldn't even be positive Severus had a will any longer. It was true that he needed Severus' assistance badly, that obtaining it was the entire purpose of risking his own freedom to break Severus out of prison, and it wasn't clear if Severus would ever be able to give it; but even if that were the case, Remus was not going to abandon Severus now. It was obvious that if nothing else, Severus needed him, and so things had to proceed as Remus had originally planned, even if the outcome seemed that it was going to end up as something else entirely.

Reaching out, Remus gently picked up Severus' wrist, shuddering at how cold and clammy Severus' skin was. There was no resistance at all to Remus' touch, and so Remus hurried, casting a numbing charm and then a blood-letting spell. The dark red blood that spilled off Severus' skin Remus gathered with another charm, much more powerful in nature, taking very little but sending it across the room to join his own. He sealed the wound quickly, then after a moment's hesitation, he scooped Severus' thin body up in his arms. There was still no response, and Remus ached for the lightness of the form he held. Reaching into another pocket, he pulled out a simple wooden spool, holding it in his hand and leaning close to the reeking mass of Severus' hair to whisper quietly to the unmoving man.

"I'm getting you out of here," he said softly. He wasn't certain if it was an apology or a promise, but at the moment, it probably didn't matter - nor did the fact that he had come to Severus for help, but had somehow ended up as the one doing the rescuing. Tightening his arms around Severus, he clenched his hand to activate the portkey spell he had thrown on the spool, feeling the sharp tug behind his navel as Azkaban mercifully disappeared from his sight. Merlin willing, neither he nor Severus would ever see the place again.

 

Remus had prepared carefully for retrieving Severus from Azkaban, and, even more importantly, for the time they would spend in hiding.

The Millhouse was an old Tudor structure, with uneven floors and a thatched roof that sagged in the middle rather alarmingly, but it had two distinct advantages as far as Remus was concerned. The first was that it was next to a stream - clear, cold, and fast running, which provided plenty of water for drinking and bathing, without the annoyance of having to bring it from a well. The second was that it was set in the middle of a huge estate owned by some apothecary or other, who were more than happy to allow Remus to live in the run down building in exchange for him tending the greenhouses which dotted the surrounding fields, their previous caretaker having received an unexpected inheritance and taking off for a grander life back in London only two weeks before, leaving them desperate for a replacement. It was not an unattractive area, to be sure, but empty and rather desolate. They were the only souls for miles around, and winter was fast approaching, which suited Remus' plans perfectly. The snow here would be thick and deep, and he counted on them going unnoticed and undiscovered for at least 5 months.

The greenhouses also served two other functions; they would provide food for the both of them for the next several months, along with the rabbit snares Remus would place around the edge of the woods, and they were the primary source of ingredients that Severus would need if Remus were successful in convincing him to brew the potion he wanted. The former was apparently going to be far more important than the latter, although now Remus was worried that food alone was not going to be enough to help Severus return to health, given his current condition. Any potion brewing was no doubt a very long time off indeed, but oddly enough, Remus didn't resent that fact as much as he would have thought. It turned out Severus needed him even more than he needed Severus, and Remus concentrated on that fact, putting his own desires aside for the moment and tending to the more urgent matter of Severus' condition. 

Sometimes, it seemed fate worked in complicated and surprising ways, but Remus had long ago learned that the only way to survive was to roll with it and make the best of any situation.

Upon their arrival, Remus immediately set to work on Severus, who was conscious but unresponsive. Severus made no protest as Remus quickly built up a roaring fire, then stripped away Severus' rags - he couldn't begin to call them clothes - and placed Severus in the big copper tub that served for a bath. Severus was too far gone for cleaning spells to help very much, and so Remus set about levitating water from the small pool where it collected outside the house, passing it close to the fire to warm it, then dumping it into the tub until it was filled.

Severus looked pathetic, sprawled naked in the tub, the water rising to his chest and mercifully covering the emaciated flesh which clung to his ribs. Remus had not looked too closely, wanting to spare Severus' modesty even if Severus didn't seem to care, but it was all too apparent that Severus was on the verge of starving to death. Remus had felt sympathy for Severus' imprisonment, even though they had never been friends, but now he felt pity, an emotion he had never thought of in relation to Severus Snape. Severus could inspire frustration and anger, irritation and outrage, hurt and even sometimes fear within Remus, all of which he had learned long ago to cover with a calm mask of quiet acceptance. The injustice of Severus' imprisonment had awoken Remus to the fact that in many ways, he and Severus were alike, their situations an odd mirror of each other's lives; where Severus had been taken in by Albus after the first war, given a career and a place and a purpose, Remus had been cast adrift, left to fend for himself with little or nothing but the contempt of a society which abhorred his kind. Now, after the second, Remus was the one who had been given a second chance, while Severus had been thrown away like so much rubbish. It seemed that society could only overlook one form of Darkness at a given time, and this time, it was Severus' outer form that had been shunned, while Remus' inner demons had been given the nod of approval. And as Severus had, albeit grudgingly, brewed the Wolfsbane potion which had offered Remus his one brief respite during that long time of emptiness, so Remus would now repay that obligation. 

"Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?" Remus said quietly, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and kneeling down next to the tub. He summoned a washcloth and a bar of soap, dipping the cloth in the warm water to wet it before lathering it up with the sweet-smelling cleanser. Watching Severus' face, Remus passed the cloth slowly and gently down Severus' arm, not knowing if the touch might break through Severus' apathy, but there was still no reaction, and Remus sighed, wondering if in fact he was already too late.

Working as carefully as though bathing an infant - Harry having been the last baby he had bathed - Remus began to wash the filth from Severus' skin, the water turning grey and dingy in a matter of seconds as the accumulated grime of the prison began to slough from Severus' flesh. "They neglected you completely, didn't they?" Remus murmured, feeling a surge of anger at the callous men who were punishing Severus for something that had been, by Aberforth's testimony, Albus' own command. But the Ministry had been looking for vengeance, not justice, and the crowds had been clamoring for Severus' head; in some ways, no doubt the Ministry thought they were being fair to the man who had killed Albus Dumbledore. As fair as they were being to the werewolves, at least, or those that hadn't met with immediate execution.

Remus had to use a charm three times which clarified the water of some of its filth during the bath, then once again before he carefully washed Severus' hair. Severus didn't resist Remus handling him like a doll, tilting his head back to rinse the soap from his hair, leaving the long, unkempt mass tangled but finally clean. Standing once more, Remus banished the disgusting water, then retrieved the thick towel he had left warming next to the fire, wrapping Severus' body in it and lifting him from the tub. He carried Severus to one of the narrow beds, sitting him down upon it and drying Severus carefully.

While he worked, Remus talked to Severus, using a quiet, soothing voice. "It's not much, but the place is safe, and it should be all we need until you're better," he murmured as he combed the tangles from Severus' hair, which now fell halfway down his back, uncut since his imprisonment. "The loo is behind that door over there, primitive but functional, thank Merlin, even if it's not a flush toilet. Beats a chamber pot, at least. I'd gotten some clothing for you as well, though I suspect you'll practically swim in it with all the weight you've lost. We'll have to remedy that at once, you realize; I'll not have you starving to death. Can you hear me, Severus? Do you care about this at all?"

There was no response, and Remus sighed, taking out the clothing he had bought for Severus and dressing his unresisting form. He had been right, the clothing hung on Severus like a sack, and Remus drew his wand, transfiguring the garments - all black, of course - smaller so that they fit better. 

Severus ly was emaciated, and that brought up the problem of how Remus was going to get Severus to eat. Food seemed the most important concern now that hygiene had been attended to, and so Remus left Severus sitting on the bed, staring off into nothingness, and moved toward the area of the big room that served the function of "kitchen". It had originally been no more than a few shelves, a table, and a sink, but Remus had been fortunate to have discovered an old cast iron cooker in a Muggle shop, which he had transported here on the sly and rigged up to function. It had almost been a wreck, but a little magic had gone a long way toward restoring it, and it would serve their modest needs.

After stoking the fire in its iron belly, Remus picked out a tin of soup from his small store of non-perishables and prepared it quickly and efficiently. Years of living alone and on the cheap had taught him many tricks about stretching food, but he was grateful that he had enough resources not to have to water this batch down. He could do better in future, as well, with the fresh vegetables available to him, but for now the thin broth would do well enough on its own. Or at least he hoped so, for both his sake and Severus'. After all, it wouldn't be Remus' first experience with putting food into a belly grown small and weak from extended hunger, although it would be unique in that the belly in question was not his own.

Once the soup had warmed sufficiently, Remus transferred it from pot to bowl, carrying it to the table and setting it down carefully before turning back to the bed. Severus had not moved during the entire time, and as he stood staring down at the still form of the man who had once had so much energy, so much life, Remus had to suppress a sudden quaver of doubt, wondering if he should just give up on his plan, take Severus out of the country and drop him at a Muggle hospital in some foreign place where they wouldn't know him and wouldn't ask questions. The Muggles would care for him, using their medical technology to put food and fluids into him. They could restore his body quickly and efficiently, while Remus wasn't certain if he would be able to do it at all. Perhaps it would be better for Severus to give up on his plan and take Severus to people who could care for him properly.

"Perhaps I should take you away, leave you with professionals," Remus murmured, more to himself than to his unresponsive guest. "I could even go back to my own life after a time, claiming that I had been Obliviated and had no idea what happened after I entered your cell. They would believe me, I think... and if they didn't, I could always leave again. I could make certain you were safe, you know; I have enough money now that I could do that." 

Reaching out, Remus laid a hand on Severus' shoulder, feeling the bones beneath his fingers almost as sharply as though Severus were a skeleton merely covered in cloth. Yet there was warmth there and life, and Remus crouched down until his eyes were on a level with Severus', looking into that empty black gaze, seeing a great nothing staring back at him. Severus' eyes were as empty as a doll's, and Remus sighed, feeling a wave of hopelessness at the entire situation. "What do you want, Severus? I wish I knew, that you would answer me. Or do I even need to ask? I have the feeling if you were really still in there, you'd be telling me to go to hell, perhaps even offering to send me there, right? Looking at you now, I realize how selfish I've been, thinking only of what I wanted to use you for, not really about what you had suffered in that place. You have no liking for me, I know that; you'd probably tell me just where to stick my help, wouldn't you? Maybe that's all the proof I need that I shouldn't go on with this, that I can't really help you. Perhaps it would be best if I just left you alone, in..."

Remus stopped suddenly, the word "peace" stilling on his tongue. At the word "alone", Severus had reacted, a small tremor running through his body. Had his hand not still been on Severus' shoulder, he might have missed it, so tiny was the movement, but it had most definitely been there. Amber eyes wide, Remus stared at Severus, a faint, precious hope springing to life in his heart.

"Severus?" he breathed softly. "Are you in there? Can you hear me? Please, if you are, can you say something? Do something? Anything?"

There was no response to Remus' plea. "Severus, please... I don't know if I'm doing the right thing for you, and Merlin knows you should have some sort of input into this. Would you rather that I left you alone?"

Again, there was a reaction to that word. Another tremor, and this time, Remus thought he saw a faint shadow cross Severus' eyes, like a ripple flowing across a still pond. It was gone in a moment, almost as though it had never been, but Remus knew that he wasn't imagining things this time. Moreover, he had recognized that brief flash, having seen it in his own eyes staring back at him from a mirror, the few times he had gazed into one before the full moon. It was fear, and it was something Remus had never, in all the years he had known him, associated with Severus Snape.

Alone. Severus was somehow now afraid of being alone... and for months, alone was precisely what Severus had been, in body, mind and soul. All alone, in the dark. Remus could not imagine the hell that must have been.

"I won't leave you alone, Severus," he promised. "Not until you are back to yourself. Not until you are better. I know you don't like me, and you might not even believe me... but for what it's worth, I'm here. And I'm not going to go away. I'll stay with you, no matter what."

There was no response; Severus had lapsed back into his apathy, but at least he wasn't trembling any longer, and Remus relaxed as well, for the moment. As reassurance went, it wasn't much, but at this point, Remus would take any slim hope he could get, for they were few and far between. He lifted a hand, stroking Severus' hair lightly. From the look of it, it was going to be a very long, very silent winter... for both of them.

*~*

"...and after I left Liverpool, I never saw him again. Funny, isn't it? At twenty two, you think the world will never change. At forty, you wonder if anything will ever be any different."

Remus' voice trailed off, and he lifted the spoon once more to Severus' lips. Like an obedient child, Severus took the broth, and Remus used a napkin to blot away a small drop from the corner of Severus' mouth.

Sighing, he dropped the spoon into the bowl and sat back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. Then his gaze returned to Severus, and he lowered his hands to the table top, leaning forward and regarding Severus with eyes that were both weary and somber.

Outside the wind howled, rattling the shutters Remus had fastened shut against the winter storm. It was warm in the room, thanks to the raging fire and to the fact that over the course of the last month - 24 days, actually - since they had arrived, Remus had found and mended every single chink in the old wooden walls. It had been laborious work, but necessary to keep them from freezing, as he had discovered after the first storm blew in from over the mountains, and the icy air had blown through the walls as though they had been paper. Even Severus had reacted to the chill with a shiver, and that had convinced Remus that certain repairs necessitated the use of magic. By necessity he had to keep spell use to a minimum, both in number and relative power of spells; while there was no indication that the Ministry was anywhere close to finding them, Remus didn't want to risk them being able to track him down by using magic at such a level that it drew their attention. For this reason, he did almost all chores by hand, saving magic for those jobs where it was necessary.

Thankfully, getting Severus to eat hadn't turned out to be one of them. While Severus would not feed himself, he would and did allow Remus to feed him, which had taken away one worry. If he had been unable to get sustenance into Severus, he would have been forced to take Severus away to find someone who could help, since he couldn't allow Severus to starve to death, even if the risk of his freedom. It would have defeated the purpose, after all, to save his life only to watch Severus continue to die slowly from starvation.

Inclining his head to one side, Remus gave a rather lopsided smile. Severus definitely was looking better, having regained some weight thanks to Remus' patient feeding. Fortunately for them both, Remus had stocked several cookbooks in anticipation of their long stay, not having wanted to hear Severus complain about the food, and they had ended up being useful in helping Remus prepare soups and stews that were nourishing enough to help restore Severus' health. Severus was probably still down at least a stone from what he had weighed in his prime, but he no longer looked like a stick figure that could be blown over by the wind. There was some color in his sallow cheeks once again, but now that his body was on the mend, Remus was becoming far more concerned by the continued silence and the lack of any life in Severus' eyes. It was as though Severus' body was going through the familiar motions of life once more, but the spirit, the personality of Severus Snape was gone, leaving only a shell in its place. A shell which might never again be filled with the spark of life.

Shaking off his worry, for that way lay despair and madness, Remus rose, taking their bowls to the sink and washing them quickly and efficiently. He returned to the table, and by taking Severus' arm, he urged him to stand before leading him toward the fireplace and the two rather comfortable chairs which flanked it. After seating Severus in one, Remus moved to his own, settling down in it and reaching toward the table between them for his reading glasses and the book he was reading out loud to Severus, something to fill the empty hours of their day and the oppressive silence of the room. He talked to Severus constantly, explaining everything he did when taking caring of Severus, telling stories during their meals, talking about the plants he was tending out in the greenhouses as he went about cleaning or cooking; anything to stimulate Severus, to try to awaken the soul which lay dormant, hurt and trembling behind the dark eyes which were becoming as familiar to Remus as his own. It was becoming a habit, almost, a stream of consciousness as he told Severus things he had never told anyone else, not as a form of confession, really, but as a way to find that spark, that connection which he was certain must be there, somewhere, somehow.

But after dinner was time for reading, the only bit of entertainment Remus seemed to have anymore. He had included a couple of boxes of books among the necessities he had brought with him for their stay; they were not his own books, sadly, not those few precious volumes which he had been forced to leave behind in his flat in order to make his disappearance seem sudden and real. No, these were things he had picked up at a Muggle jumble sale, unwanted relics left over from an estate. They were old and dogeared, but Remus didn't mind that one bit. His eyes had only seen Dickens, Poe, and Shakespeare, old friends who had soothed his loneliness for many a year, and that had been that. He thought he might have time, when Severus was brewing, to while away any boredom with the company of familiar words, but now those words had grown even more important in the light of what reality had handed him.

"Where were we?" he murmured, almost more to himself. Speaking his thoughts aloud was becoming almost second nature to him now, even if his voice had become hoarse at first, now he could sustain speech for a very long time indeed. Having once been called the "quiet one" among his friends, it amused him that now it seemed as though he never did stop talking. "Ah, here it is."

He stopped at a page, the edges worn and tattered as though the previous owner had reread this section of The Compleat Works rather often. Remus looked at the ragged paper for a moment, then shook his head and began to read.

"Enter Lady Macbeth:  
That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold;  
What hath quench'd them hath given me fire.  
Hark! Peace!  
It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman,  
Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it:  
The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms  
Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd  
their possets,  
That death and nature do contend about them,  
Whether they live or die.

Macbeth:  
Who's there? what, ho!"

Remus continued with the scene from the Scottish play, with the doomed thane and his evil wife discussing Macbeth's murder of his friend, his mentor, his benefactor, Duncan, King of Scotland. It was a powerful scene, an intense one, and Remus became absorbed in the words of tragedy, guilt, and anguish as Macbeth realized at last what he has done, the depth of the sin he had committed.

"Macbeth:  
Whence is that knocking?  
How is't with me, when every noise appals me?  
What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes.  
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood  
Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather  
The multitudinous seas incarnadine  
Making the green one red...."

There was a sound - small, faint, but completely unexpected. Remus looked up, eyes wide, fixing on Severus. Surely it must have been he who had given that tiny gasp, that inhalation of breath as though he had suffered a pang or a shock. As always, however, the blankness of Severus' gaze was fixed on the fire, the dancing light burnishing his pale features, and he seemed unmoved. Remus waited, holding his own breath lest he miss another sound, but even though he waited several long moments, none was forthcoming. Outside, the winter wind rattled the shutters again, and Remus sighed, deciding he had been wrong. The hope which had sprung to life within him slowly died away, and he looked down at the page, having no more heart for the reading.

Yet there were only a few lines left; he would finish, then, and call it an early night for them both.

"Lady Macbeth:  
My hands are of your colour; but I shame  
To wear a heart so white.  
Knocking within  
I hear a knocking  
At the south entry: retire we to our chamber;  
A little water clears us of this deed:  
How easy is it, then! Your constancy  
Hath left you unattended.  
Hark! more knocking.  
Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us,  
And show us to be watchers. Be not lost  
So poorly in your thoughts.

Macbeth:  
To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself.  
More knocking  
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!"

Remus' voice died away, and he closed the book in his lap, staring for a moment at the worn cover. The Bard was a close friend, but perhaps this particular play was too morbid, too fraught with tension. Something lighter would better suit, no doubt, and with a sigh, Remus returned the book to the table, then rose and looked down at Severus, taking a step toward his chair with the intention of beginning the chore of putting Severus to bed.

He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at Severus. The dark head was bent, and Severus was staring at his hands, which here folded in his lap, his eyes fixed on them as though he were actually seeing them. The change of pose was the first voluntary movement Remus had seen Severus make in weeks, and Remus didn't dare move; it was an action on Severus' part, tiny and unremarkable as it seemed, and Remus' heart was suddenly pounding.

Several minutes passed, but there was no change in Severus' pose, no sign that Severus was aware of anything outside of himself. Swallowing hard, Remus decided to take a chance; moving slowly, carefully, he crossed to stand in front of Severus' chair, then just as slowly, he knelt down by Severus' knees so that he could look up into Severus' lowered face.

"Severus," he said softly. There was no reaction, and so he spoke again. "Severus, can you hear me? Can you hear anything?"

Silently Remus willed Severus to speak, to look at him, to do something, anything to acknowledge Remus' presence. He reached out, putting a hand over Severus' clasped ones, squeezing gently. "Severus, I'm here. Please, if you can hear me, do something. Say something - anything - just... let me know you're there. Please, Severus. Just a small sign to let me know that you can see the way out, your way back to me."

Remus waited and waited, hoping against hope that Severus would respond to him. He'd even welcome a flash of dark eyes and a harsh rebuke, or Severus drawing away from him with a snapped command that Remus not touch him. For that matter, he'd settle for Severus raising his head and looking at him rather than through him for once.

He wasn't how long he knelt there, waiting, willing, but at last his legs cramped in protest, and Remus sighed, forced to admit that if anything more were to happen, it probably wouldn't be tonight. He managed to summon up a wry smile as he rose stiffly to his feet, and he reached out to touch Severus' hair briefly, almost affectionately. "You've always been a right contrary bastard," he said softly, but the words lacked any harshness. "You'll come 'round in your own good time, won't you - not because I want you to do it, not because I implore you, but when you're ready. Don't worry, Severus. I won't abandon you. You take the time that you need to heal, and I'll take care of you."

Remus lingered for another moment, perhaps unconsciously still hoping for a response, but then he shook his hea, and set about pulling Severus up from the chair and getting them both ready for bed. Even if Severus hadn't responded to his entreaty, at least there seemed to be hope. Fragile and delicate, but at least it was there, and Remus had learned long ago that he could survive indefinitely on the faintest of signs that someday, perhaps, things might get better.

In this case, for Severus' sake, he would make do.

*~*~

Tending the plants in the greenhouses was something of a chore, but Remus didn't mind it, not really. He had done decently well at herbology after all, and it was good to put those skills to use once again, to tend to growing things which might otherwise die without his care. It gave him a purpose, and he found working in the warm, rich soil soothing.

It was brutally cold outside, but the weak winter sun shone down through the enchanted glass, and Remus lifted his face to it, basking in the warmth. The greenhouses were enchanted to maintain a constant temperature, but there was no substitute for the natural light of the sun. Turning his head, Remus looked back over his shoulder at where he had left Severus, sitting on an upended crate. Remus had removed the heavy outer robes he had bundled Severus into for the trek from the house, and positioned Severus so that he could see Remus while he worked.

Ever since he had brought Severus here, he had been afraid to let Severus out of his sight. It wasn't that he thought Severus might suddenly become aware again and leave, but he was worried about Severus reacting to his absence. The fact that Severus had seemed to be aware of the word "alone" had stuck with Remus, and Remus had made a promise which he fully intended to keep.

"The nightshade is growing well," he said conversationally, looking over his shoulder to offer Severus a smile, which the recipient didn't react to at all. Giving an unconscious sigh, Remus moved on to the next plant, removing a small weed which had sprouted in the warm earth and tossing it into a bucket by his side. "I don't have the problems working with it that I do with the wolfsbane, of course. I have to be very carefully with the aconite, wearing gloves and a mask so that I don't have more contact with it than necessary." He glanced at Severus again. "I always appreciated you brewing the potion for me, you know. Not just because of the relief it offered me, but because you did it properly. I know you've always hated me, and you could have used some excuse for a flaw in the potion to harm me, if you had wanted to. But you didn't. I think that's why I trust you, why I never really believed that you would have killed Albus without there being an explanation."

Sitting back on his heels, Remus looked down at his dirty hands, thinking about metaphors and ironies. "I was devastated at first, of course - shock, you know. We were all in shock and grieving and feeling suddenly lost without the man who had been our driving force, our mentor, our leader. But even in those horrid days right after, even when all the others were clamoring for your blood, I couldn't believe there wasn't some other explanation for what happened. If you'd really wanted to kill Albus, you had every opportunity for years. Just as with me; if you'd wanted me dead, you could have done it, and no one would have been the wiser. The others gave you credit for being crafty, of course, but I think the one thing they overlooked was just how damned intelligent you really are, especially when it comes to potions. Albus' death was too cliche, too..." He lifted a hand, showing Severus the soil on his palm. "Too obvious. Your hands were meant to look dirty, people were meant to blame you. That's why I couldn't believe it. I've known you for years, Severus, and while we've never been close, I think I understand you well enough to know that what happened wasn't your choice. And I was right, wasn't I? For all the good it did you. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner to get you out. I didn't know..."

His voice trailed off, and Remus looked at Severus solemnly. There had been no obvious reaction from him during Remus' little speech, but Remus wondered now if perhaps Severus' gaze wasn't a little more focused. He sighed, knowing it was just wishful thinking on his part, and he turned once more to his work.

When he reached the end of the row, Remus stood, stretching his back and giving a small gasp as it cracked. He had been absorbed in his thoughts as he had worked, forgetting even to speak to Severus, his hands moving about their tasks automatically, knowing instinctively what to do. Moving to the bucket of water he had set aside for washing up, Remus plunged his hands into the cold water, rubbing them together and watching as the black earth was rinsed from his skin. Suddenly he stopped, thinking about how the body knew to go about certain tasks, even without the mind's conscious direction. Yet those same tasks aided thought, gave an outlet for the body's need to move, to do something constructive.

Glancing over at Severus, Remus drew in a breath. It was a longshot. It probably wouldn't work, and he knew he mustn't get his hopes up. But he had to do something to help Severus, something to try to pull him back from wherever Severus' defenses had sent his mind. Remus was no expert, of course, but it couldn't hurt to try.

Moving toward Severus, Remus pulled him to his feet, then led him over to a row of the freshly tended plants. Settling Severus on his knees on a gardening mat was a tricky operation, but Remus accomplished it after a few moments. He wasn't worried about the dirt on Severus' robes, for those could be washed, and he knelt beside Severus, not even noticing his own knees unprotected on the hard earth. Taking Severus' hands, he leaned them forward, then picked up a handful of dirt. Cupping one of Severus' hands, he dropped the soil into the palm, then closed Severus' hand around it.

"Pomona told me once that you had your own section of the greenhouses, set aside solely for your use," Remus said softly. "That you were quite picky about some of your herbs, insisting on growing them yourself rather than taking them out of stores. Gillyweed, I think she said. Belladonna, and of course wolfsbane. Somehow that was part of what made me feel that you were a good person under all that snark, Severus. Growing things, living ones... we're all connected. I don't know how anyone who works in the earth can't feel that or not dwell on the cycle of life. We come from the earth, we are nourished by it our whole lives, and then we are returned to it when we die." Remus looked at the warm earth in Severus' hand. "Hands and hearts, minds and souls... I suppose it's a stupid, romantic notion, but just as every puff air has been breathed by someone else, so every speck of earth could have been someone else. What did Hamlet call it? 'This quintessence of dust'?" 

Severus didn't move, and slowly the soil began to dry out and fall through his fingers. Still Remus didn't move, watching that slow trickle like the falling of sand through an hour glass. He was seized for a moment with an unreasoning bitterness, an anger at the circumstances which had lead them here. It was like a festering sore, breaking open without warning and spilling out. "Shakespeare had it right, you know," he said, lips twisting in something that bore no resemblance to a smile. "Man is definitely a piece of work, all right. And even if we are in action like angels, and in apprehension like gods, so are we like demons in cruelty, and in thoughtlessness like monsters. Even those on the side of light - everywhere is nothing but cruelty and condemnation! People who revile me for my curse, yet deny me the means to end it. People who could do this to you, who would have given up their own lives to defeat the Dark Lord, and yet demand the sacrifice of yours for the sin of taking a life in order to do the same. Damn Albus for what he cost you, and damn you for paying that price!"

The anger made him tremble, and Remus closed his eyes, recognizing all too well the monster he himself was fighting - the approach of the moon. He had acquired the wolfsbane potion for this month before going into hiding, and he had been taking for the last several days from force of habit. But the potion couldn't entirely quell the side effects, which included a tendency to become more aggressive than normal, more easily annoyed, and Remus bit down on the feeling. Breathing deeply, he searched for a still, quiet place within himself, letting the anger flow through him and away. When he was certain that it had passed, Remus opened his eyes once more; Severus' hand was empty.

"I think that's all for today," he said, rising to his feet and then pulling Severus to his. He was tired, and perhaps an early night would be best. It would be his last one before the transformation, and considering what that would take out of him, he could use all the rest he could get.

It took a few minutes to clean Severus' hand, then to bundle him into his cloak, wrapping a green scarf around Severus' throat and up to his ears. He thought for a moment that Severus' eyes focused on him, but then he blinked, and Severus' eyes were blank again. Sighing, Remus shook his head. He was imagining things, no doubt.

"Come on, let's go home," Remus murmured, stroking Severus' hair back from his cheek gently. Then he wrapped an arm around Severus' waist, leading him from the warmth of the greenhouse and out into the biting wind of the winter day, two dark figures in a field of white, two Dark creatures, both looking to find their ways back from the brink of oblivion.

 

Ice. There was ice everywhere, hanging from his fingertips and his nose, clotting his eyelashes, caking his lips. It was cold, so very, very cold, and he was tired, exhausted; he wanted nothing more than to lie there amid the crystals and let his weary mind go blank, to sleep an endless sleep that would end the cold forever.

Yet a thought stirred within him, refusing to let him sink down further into the beckoning darkness. Severus, an inner voice reminded him, over and over again, like a litany against the numbness. Severus, Severus, Severus. You must return to Severus. Without you, he will die.

With a groan, Remus hauled himself to his feet, staggering weakly until he smacked into the tree he had lain beneath, using it to prop himself up until his balance returned. His bare skin was so numb that he could barely feel it, and he wrapped his arms around himself, blinking away the snow from his eyes, and looked around, trying to figure out where he was.

For a moment, there was utter panic, that sick, disoriented, lost feeling as he stared into utter greyness, the dull monotone broken only by the darker shadows of trees. Thankfully, however, it wasn't snowing, and the wind was calm, so that he eyes could adjust enough to pick up the subtle distinction between earth and sky. No moonlight, of course - had it not set, he would have four legs still, rather than two weak and unreliable ones - but he wouldn't have seen it anyway, given the dreary, overcast dawn. 

"Have to walk," he told himself, his frozen lips barely moving. It took a mighty force of will, but Remus managed to release the tree, staggering a few steps and almost falling to his knees. He didn't even bother to look for his robes, since there was no telling if he were anywhere close to where he had shed them the previous evening as he waited for the inevitable to occur. He'd have to make it back naked, hopefully without freezing to immobility in the process.

Assuming, that was, that he could make it back at all.

Looking around, Remus squinted at the ground, finally finding the tracks of paws in the snow, leading up to where he had returned to his senses. All he could do was follow that path, hoping that it lead him back to where the paws once again became footprints, or to an area he could recognize so that he could find the house.

Unsteadily he set off, moving slowly as his aching limbs protested every step. It hurt like hell, and Remus was used to collapsing into a comfortable bed after a transformation, rather than hiking through mounds of snow stark naked. He kept moving despite the agony, knowing his responsibility to Severus; it was that responsibility which had driven him out into the snow in the first place, and now it lead him back once again.

It had been easier the previous month, of course; he'd had the wolfsbane potion, and he'd gotten Severus taken care of and settled into bed before moonrise, before retreating to his own bed for the transformation. Severus had been as passive as usual, and Remus had stayed in his own bed, not approaching Severus while in wolf form, knowing that if Severus reacted to him it definitely wouldn't be in a positive manner, and his lack of hands or vocal cords would keep him from being able to do anything to offer comfort or reassurance, or even an explanation. Fortunately, the night had passed quietly, and Remus had been praying every night since then that Severus would be restored to normal - or something close to it, at least - before the next moon.

Prayers, however, were something Remus had rarely had answered, and this time was no exception. There had been times when he thought he had seen a flicker in Severus' eyes, or he had left Severus in one position, only to return to find him having moved slightly, but all in all, there was nothing to indicate that Severus was any more aware than he had been since Remus had rescued him. Trying to obtain more Wolfsbane was out of the question, and Remus knew from long experience that he simply wasn't skilled enough to brew it himself. Therefore, necessity had driven him out of the house for Severus' protection; how ironic it would be if he died of exposure, thereby condemning Severus to a slow death by starvation rather than a quick one in the jaws of the wolf.

Step by slow, agonizing step, Remus kept going, reminding himself that he didn't care for irony in the slightest. He would make it back, and Severus would be fine. There simply was no other outcome possible.

He hoped.

As painful as the walking was, it did warm him somewhat, and after several minutes of plodding, he noticed that the sky had begun to lighten, although the clouds were still sullen and grey, heralding more snow to come. He needed to make it back before that happened, and he was suddenly overcome with relief as he realized that he would, for he heard the sound of rushing water, beckoning him toward the stream which provided their water. One he reached it, all he would have to do was follow it back home.

Home, he thought, chuckling a bit, his breath puffing clouds of white into the air. He knew he was giddy with fatigue and relief, but he didn't care. For now the sway-roofed, slant-timbered old Millhouse was home, and a welcome one it was. Perhaps it was a sad commentary on his life that such a place, with only a silent, unresponsive man for company could seem like a haven, but it was precisely that for now. He had food, he had shelter, he had a purpose, and he even had companionship of a sort. The ultimate of ironies, in a situation filled with them, that he had found some measure of contentment, and that all he needed to make it complete was for Severus to speak.

Minutes, hours, days later, it seemed, he finally reached the stream, and he turned to follow it upstream, thankful for the sight of the mountains to the east, which mercifully showed him the direction he needed to go. Stumbling, teeth chattering, he kept going, until finally the bulk of the house came into view.

It was an effort not to collapse in relief at the sight, giving thanks for the mercy of whatever fate had finally smiled upon him. Reaching the welcoming door at last, Remus barely had the strength to turn the handle, and something very close to a sob escaped him as he stumbled into the room. He managed somehow to shut the door before swaying on his feet, then stumbling toward the banked fire in the hearth and collapsing at last on the rug before it, as though it were the finest mattress in the universe.

But although his body believed that his journey was over, his mind still nagged at him. Severus, he thought, and knew that he would be unable to rest until he had checked upon his charge. He was so cold that he could barely feel the heat from the fire, yet somehow, he managed to find one last reserve within himself, and he drew upon it, managing to pull himself to his knees. He didn't dare attempt to stand, but fortunately, dignity was a moot point, nor would he have cared if anyone had seen his slow, clumsy crawl across the floor. Remus knew what he had to do, and he would do it come hell or high water. The thought of Severus had carried him back to the house, and it would carry him just a little farther.

Never had the small room seemed so large, and he didn't know how long it took him to make his way to Severus' bedside. Fortunately, the warmth of the room had begun to thaw him, and by the time he reached the bedside, he was sweating, even though his fingers and toes still felt as though they belonged to someone else. Lifting his arms, he pulled himself up to a kneeling position, anxious to make certain that Severus was all right.

He froze again as he found that Severus was lying in bed, eyes wide open in what could only be terror.

"Merlin," Remus said thickly, lifting a shaking hand to touch Severus' face. Had it been the howls of the wolf that had caused this? Or had on some level Severus realized that he had been alone? "Severus? Severus? I'm here. Me, Remus. Not the wolf. I'm sorry I had to go out, but I couldn't endanger you by staying. Severus, can you hear me? I'm back. I'm back, and I won't leave you alone again."

Severus still lay immobile, and Remus fumbled for one of Severus' hands, taking the rigid fingers in his own numb ones and holding it as tightly as he could manage. Adrenaline allowed him to stumble to his feet, and then he collapsed on the bed next to Severus, too weary to get beneath the blankets. He didn't know what else to do other than to reassure Severus with his presence, and he curled awkwardly around Severus' body, knowing his reserves of strength were gone at last, bitterly cursing the lycanthropy which had caused them both such pain.

He could no longer move his limbs, but he still hand energy to speak. "Severus, please, I'm sorry. I'm back, and I won't go away again, not until the next moon. Please, please listen. Please come back. If you are in there, if you can hear me, please..."

The litany of entreaty went on, even when Remus' eyelids grew too heavy to keep open. He still continued to speak, his tone growing hoarse, asking for Severus' forgiveness, telling him stories, jokes, anything that ran across the surface of his thoughts. It was the only way he could reassure Severus: by his presence and his voice. The only way he could perhaps pull Severus back to the real world once more, and he fell back on the words of others that had been imprinted indelibly in his mind when he ran out of thoughts of his own.

Exhaustion caught up with him at last, at the end of an oddly appropriate poem. He was distantly amused by it in the drowsy moments before sleep claimed him at last, his voice fading off at the last word as Severus' rigidity finally lessened. The two of them, one physically depleted and the other nursing a soul-deep wound, relaxed into a peaceful, dreamless slumber which was far more healing than either of them knew.


	2. Chapter 1

"Well, I think I'll get to keep the toes, but I probably won't have to worry about a pedicure for a while," Remus said, staring down at his feet. Color and feeling had returned to them at last, and he gave an experimental wriggle before pulling on a pair of thick woolen socks which had been warming by the fire. The toasty fabric felt very good, and he sighed, leaning back in his chair and glancing over at Severus once again. He couldn't seem to help himself; there was something different about Severus, something sensed more than seen, really, but Remus couldn't stop looking for a visible sign to validate the intangible feeling that Severus was somehow more there than he had been before, even if he reacted no more to anything than he had before.

Wishful thinking, no doubt, Remus thought, then rose carefully, walking slowly toward the hearth to throw on a few more logs, banking them to burn throughout the night. It was about the time when they normally went to bed, but Remus found that he wasn't sleepy. Tired, yes, and still sore from the ordeal of the morning, but he had slept long in Severus' bed, and from what he could tell, Severus had slept too, for his eyes had still been closed, his face relaxed and tranquil when Remus had finally woken long past noon.

He still felt remorse for what Severus had apparently suffered in his absence. He had promised not to leave Severus alone, and he could only think that somehow Severus must sense his presence. Last month when he had transformed, he had still been in the house, and Severus hadn't shown any signs of distress. It must have been his absence, the lack of another heartbeat, another living creature that had caused Severus' fear, and even though it couldn't have been helped, on some level, Remus still felt guilty.

Yet at least it did prove that Severus was aware of him. Which was all to the good, since it showed that Severus wasn't so completely lost in his catatonia that he had no perception of the outside world at all. Small comfort, perhaps, but it gave Remus hope that his words might eventually get through to Severus, pulling him back from the empty darkness which now all but engulfed his world.

Restlessly Remus prowled in front of the fire, pacing back and forth, lost in thought. He winced when he knocked a foot against the leg of his chair, and with a sigh, he sank down to the rug at Severus' feet, looking up into the pale calmness of Severus' face. Placing a hand on Severus' knee, Remus gave a crooked smile. "I wish I knew how to reach you, how to get you back - even if it was just for you to yell at me and call me names, or tell me how I've messed things up beyond all salvaging." The smile faded. "Maybe this time I have. Perhaps I should take you away, to find professionals to help you. Maybe I'm being selfish, thinking that I'm taking care of you when I might just be making it worse."

Looking up into Severus' impassive face, Remus fought with the realization that he really was being selfish. Somehow in this whole bizarre situation, he had come to enjoy caring for Severus. He felt needed, something he had missed since the end of the war. Certainly his life had been much better after Voldemort's fall, but despite the creature comforts it had provided him, he knew that his job wasn't truly necessary, that he was nothing but a cog in a bureaucratic wheel, going through the motions expected of him without really feeling like he was making a difference at all. Perhaps it was that very lack which had made him so adamant about defying the Ministry's edict against the Lycanthropy cure, leading to him hatching the whole plan to rescue Severus Snape from Azkaban and give Severus his freedom in exchange for brewing it. 

The fact that the potion was fatal in over ninety percent of cases, killing rather than curing, was something he didn't care about for himself, and he knew it would trouble Severus not at all; the important part was that he would once again have his destiny in his own hands, be doing something rather than simply reacting. Tonks hadn't understood at all why he would risk taking something which would almost certainly kill him, and it had been at that point that they had both realized that the fact he was willing to risk death for a small chance at a cure meant that the feelings Remus had for her weren't what she wanted from him. To Remus, the cure had become an all important symbol of the way the Ministry had taken away choices from his kind, keeping them as enslaved to the will of the Ministry as they were to the pull of the moon.

After he and Tonks had split up, after his last appeal to the Ministry had been refused, Remus had used his position to get access to the formulation for the potion, even knowing that no Potions Master in England would brew it for him, save possibly one - and so he had thought to offer Severus his freedom at the price of a cure. But instead of a cure he had gotten something very different, and while he couldn't deny that he felt a sense of fulfillment in helping Severus, perhaps it would be better for Severus to give up this plan, to take Severus to another country to find someone who could really help him rather than tending to nothing more than the physical needs of a body its owner had no way to reclaim.

Remus searched Severus' eyes, looking for answers, but there was nothing - only the dull darkness of eyes which had once flashed fire. "It really was wishful thinking, wasn't it? That I could help you, make a difference... I'm sorry, Severus. I may have gotten you out of there, but I think you'd recover more quickly with the proper help." Remus sighed, shaking his head. Raising a hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly tired. "I'll think about it tomorrow." But unless I can come up with some real idea of how I can help, I'd better figure out who can.

Rising to his feet, Remus helped Severus up from the chair, then set about their bedtime ritual, going through the motions with an unaccustomed heaviness. He knew in his heart what he must do, and he felt an odd sense of loss. As odd as this situation was, he had been more comfortable and content in the last two months than he had been in his life back in Diagon Alley, with a respected position and sufficient money for his modest needs. Perhaps the fact that he had been a wanderer for so much of his life that had made the very things which symbolized security feel instead like shackles, the expectations placed upon him as tangible as the prison walls which had confined Severus.

He settled Severus down in his bed, smoothing up the covers as he always did. Despite Severus' helplessness and dependence, Remus still respected him, never thinking of Severus as being less than he had been. He had always thought of it as being rather like an illness; Severus wasn't quite himself presently, but he would be again, once he recovered and returned to normal. Yet for all his care, Severus still hadn't recovered. 

Yes, perhaps it was time.

Smoothing a hand over Severus' hair - soft and silken, for Remus found he enjoyed washing it - Remus smiled wryly, then made his way to his own bed, settling in and lying back against the pillows. He turned, blowing out the candle on the table which stood between the two beds. "Good night, Severus," he said, as he did every night, then stared up at the ceiling, his mind worrying over the decisions he knew he must make, finding himself surprisingly reluctant to do so. Sleep, he knew, was far off, but the quiet sound of Severus' breathing was reassuring, and with a pang Remus realized he would miss it.

He must have finally dozed off, however, because he was woken some time during the still of the night by a sound. Startled and groggy, Remus lifted up, frowning as he tried to identify the source. Perhaps an animal outside, or the sighing of the wind through eaves? He listened closely, but there was no wind, and after a few moments Remus settled back down, closing his eyes and telling himself that he must have been dreaming.

Then the sound came again - a low pitched, choking groan, a sound of pain, of torment. Blinking, Remus sat up, turning his head as he tried to identify the source. Again it came, and Remus drew in a breath, throwing back the covers and stumbling over to the other bed. 

It was Severus. Severus had been the source, the first sound of any kind which had passed his lips since Remus had brought him here.

"Severus?" Remus asked, his voice soft, not wanting to startle or alarm. He peered down at Severus' face, the light of the moon, only a day past full and high enough now to shine through the window, bathing it with an unearthly pallor. Severus' eyes were still closed, but there were lines of pain around his mouth, and a deep crease - that so-familiar line which had all but disappeared from the smoothness of his skin - scoring the skin between his brows.

Drawing in a breath, Remus realized that Severus must be dreaming, and from the sound of it the dreams weren't pleasant ones. As Remus watched, Severus' head began to move from side to side on the pillow, as though Severus were shaking his head in denial. Severus' hands had escaped from beneath the coverlet, and they were now clenched in the fabric, the long fingers seeming to move spasmodically, opening and closing. Another low moan, and Remus felt his heart twist at the pain in it, even though a part of him was relieved that Severus was actually making a sound.

It wasn't a dream so much as a nightmare, and Remus hovered, indecisive. He wasn't certain if he should try to wake Severus, if he even could, or if he should let it continue. This was the first indication that something of Severus was still inside, that it might be struggling back toward Severus' surface thoughts, and yet it was obviously painful and unpleasant and he hated to see Severus suffer. Remus felt helpless once again, aware that he simply didn't have the knowledge to help Severus.

The soft sounds continued, as did Severus' thrashing, and Remus couldn't remain aloof to it any longer. His presence had calmed Severus the previous night, and Remus finally gave in to his instincts, pulling back the covers and slipping beneath them to pull Severus into his arms. The bed was narrow, too narrow for real comfort, but it didn't matter, not really. Remus began to murmur softly, soothing sounds of comfort, his hands moving over Severus' back, stroking gently. 

For a moment Severus seemed to resist the confines of Remus' arms, thrashing a bit and turning restlessly, but then he finally went limp with a sigh. Remus could see that his tormented face had relaxed, the lines smoothing out once again. Remus gave a sigh, wondering if he had done the right thing, even if had been the only thing that he could have done. Right or wrong, however, he acknowledged he was relieved that Severus didn't seem to be suffering any more, and he closed his eyes, suddenly weary.

In the morning, there would be a reckoning. For now, however, Remus held Severus close, offering comfort, and oddly enough receiving it in turn.

 

Remus woke, his eyes opening slowly. The sun was up, but from the low angle of the light Remus could tell that it was still early, and Severus' face was partially in shadow, emphasizing the sharp ridges of his brow and cheek. He looked peaceful again, and was struck with the sudden thought of what it would be like to wake up next to Severus every morning. Would his face look peaceful after a night of wild sex, or would it be flushed, the shadows hiding not pale skin but the livid bruises of bite marks on his throat?

Oh, God... I've gone completely mental, Remus thought, closing his eyes once more and wincing, feeling heat rise in his cheeks as he bit his lip. To be fantasizing about a catatonic man was totally deviant, and he was deeply mortified and ashamed of himself. It was one thing to admit that he found Severus attractive; after all, he had always done so, even back to when they were teens. His taste in lovers was flexible, partially from Remus' nature and partially because affection and intimacy were hard to find because of his condition, and he tended to take what he could get when it was offered. 

Maybe it's just because I've decided to take him away, to leave him with people who can help him. It's just a natural reaction to want to... but damn it, no! Severus has no interest in being my lover, and I'll not take advantage of a man who can't even think for himself!

Yet Severus' body was warm in his arms. Severus was on his back, Remus curled up against his side with one of his arms across Severus' waist. Remus could feel the steady rise and fall as Severus breathed, could feel the slow, steady rhythm of his heart, smell the clean scent of his skin. That same body had been a wreck two months before, but now it was back to normal, and Remus was a normal - well, not man, but lycanthrope - with the usual needs. Needs which had been conveniently lacking for the last two months, than Merlin, but which seem to have suddenly reappeared now.

I'm just going to get out of bed and take a walk in the snow, Remus told himself. No harm, no foul.

Opening his eyes, Remus was about to move when he noticed that Severus' eyes were open. "Good morning, Severus," he said automatically, as he did every morning when Severus woke and they started their day. Never before had their been a response, but this time Severus turned his head and looked at Remus, dark eyes wide with shock for a moment before narrowing in a familiar scowl.

"Lupin! What in the bloody hell are you doing?" Severus snapped, black eyes flashing with ire.

Remus yelped, and his surprise made him clumsy. He moved to sit up, but forgot the narrowness of the bed, his arms and legs flailing for a moment before he fell backwards off the mattress, his back and head hitting the floor with a dull thud. There was a brief, inelegant scramble before he could right himself, and he sprang to his feet, staring at Severus, a ridiculous grin on his face.

"You're awake!" he said, the words sounding stupid, but Remus didn't care. Relief was making him dizzy. He didn't know how he had done it, if he had done anything at all, but Severus was awake, sitting up in the bed and clutching the coverlet beneath his chin, staring at Remus with outrage as though Remus had been about to ravish him or something. Ignoring the tiny voice which mocked him for his waking thoughts, Remus took a step forward, gazing at Severus with wonder. "Oh, thank Merlin, you're finally awake."

"Of course I'm awake," Severus said sarcastically. The normally smooth tone of his voice was rough and rusty, but Severus seemed to ignore it. "Did you think I wouldn't wake up if you tried to molest me? Good God, Lupin, what kind of pervert are you? Are all werewolves this base, or has being alone for so long rattled your brains?"

Remus' face flamed, and he could barely form a reply. For a moment he wondered if this was a dream, if he were imagining Severus was actually sitting there and snarking at him just because he'd wished for it to be so. "I wasn't... I didn't... Severus!" 

"Don't try to deny it," Severus continued. Pulling the covers away, he glanced down at his body, frowning at the nightshirt Remus had dressed him in. For a moment Remus thought Severus was going to snark about that as well, but instead he threw back the covers completely and stood, turning to stare at Remus, who was clad in dark red flannel pajamas. There was a slight wobble in Severus' balance, but he corrected himself quickly. "And I'm warning you, don't you dare try anything again, Lupin, or I will hex your balls off."

Dumbfounded, all Remus could do was stare at Severus, slack jawed, as Severus strode off - slightly shakily - for the loo, slamming the door hard enough to make the windows rattle in their frames.

Of all the ways Remus had imagined Severus returning to awareness, none of them had been quite like this. He expected confusion, dismay, even anger, but not... this. Whatever this was, since Remus had no idea what was going through Severus' head. He acted as though he weren't surprised at Remus' presence, just pissed at Remus for being in his bed. What Severus thought of the goings on Remus couldn't even begin to imagine, and it looked like he wasn't going to get any answers, at least for a few minutes.

Keeping an ear cocked toward the loo, Remus scrambled to dress, tossing his pajamas onto the foot of his bed, then sinking down on the mattress to wait. After a short time Severus emerged, glaring in Remus' direction before turning to scan the cottage. Spotting the dark clothing Remus had laid out on a chair the night before, Severus snatched it up. "You can have the loo now," Severus said sternly. "Stay in there until I'm dressed."

"Severus." Remus stood, taking a step toward the other man, holding out a hand. "Look... we need to talk. I know all this must be confusing for you. You must be disoriented..."

"No, Lupin, I'm annoyed," came the irritable response. Severus folded his arms across his chest, glaring down the impressive length of his nose at Remus. "Don't make me repeat myself. I don't see anything we need to discuss until I am dressed and have had a cup of tea."

"But..." Remus began, then sighed at Severus' continued scowl. He was confused and worried, but obviously Severus was in no mood to be reasonable. Given everything that had happened, Remus wasn't sure if that was normal. If anything about this situation could be considered normal. 

Facing Severus, Remus looked at him closely. He was willing to let Severus call the shots, at least for the moment, but there were certain conditions. "You won't leave while I'm in there, will you?" he asked, keeping his tone low and reasonable.

For a moment Remus thought he saw a shadow pass Severus' eyes, but it was gone so quickly he must have imagined it. "Don't be ridiculous, Lupin - I know it's dangerous out there, and I'm hardly suicidal. An impatient frown twisted Severus' lips, and he tapped his foot. "Go on. I'm beginning to lose my patience."

I didn't know you had any, Remus almost said, but bit his tongue and turned to enter the loo. This whole situation was surreal. How could a man who had been totally unaware for two months wake up and start ordering him about as though nothing had happened? Something must be going on, something Remus couldn't understand, and he ground his teeth in frustration with himself. He was out of his depth here, and all he could do was trod carefully, hoping that he didn't say or do anything that might send Severus back into his previous state, or something even worse.

Remus attended to his own needs, then splashed cold water on his face from the jug he kept on a narrow shelf next within, hoping that it would help clear his head. After counting to one hundred he took a deep breath, then stepped out once again to face Severus. Whatever was going on here, he needed to get to the bottom of it.

Severus had gotten himself dressed, and was filling a pot from the hand-pump, no doubt for the tea he had mentioned. Remus watched for a moment, noticing that Severus' movement lacked the strength and grace they had held before Azkaban. No doubt it was due to long disuse, for even though Remus had moved Severus' limbs as much as he could reasonably do during Severus' recovery, there was no replacement for every day use.

Still, Severus was stubborn and Remus knew that could make up for a great deal; he'd just have to watch and make certain that Severus didn't try for anything too heavy for a while. A teapot seemed harmless enough, although Remus did have to keep himself from jumping in to help when Severus moved to place it over the fire. He could see the sweat beading Severus' forehead from even so simple an exertion, but when he took a step forward to offer assistance Severus shot him a quelling look.

"I can do it, Lupin," he said scathingly. "I know I've been unwell for a short while, but I assure you I can and will take care of myself from now on. Your assistance is no longer required."

That, it seemed, was all the thanks Remus was going to get for taking care of Severus for months. Not that Remus cared about gratitude, but Severus seemed to act as though accepting help was an imposition, his condition somehow Remus' fault. Keeping his face calm - he had many years of experience dealing with Severus' tongue - Remus merely nodded, then set about getting out the tea, their cups, the sugar, and a loaf of bread he had baked the day before. Severus could act as high handed as he wished if it saved his pride, but Remus wasn't about to let him take up more than the lightest of the chores until he was much stronger.

Thankfully Severus moved to a chair at the table, sitting down with a thud. Remus didn't look directly at him, but he could see that Severus was even paler than normal, and that his breath was coming in shallow pants. Biting down on an admonition, Remus merely continued to fix their simple breakfast, cutting four thick slices of the bread and setting it to toast on a rack near the fire. Deciding that a treat was in order, he also pulled out one of the precious jars of jam he had stocked. By the time the bread had browned the water had also boiled, and without a word Remus finished up the preparations, making the tea and toast and bringing it to the table.

Severus glanced up as Remus placed his toast in front of him, but his eyes were as unreadable as ever. Remus smiled, then moved to settle in his own chair, pouring out the tea without comment, then pushing the jar of jam toward Severus. "I thought something special might be in order today," he said quietly. "I hope that you don't mind strawberry."

"It is acceptable," Severus replied.

Remus watched him stir sugar into his tea, then spread the jam on his toast as calmly as if he did it every morning. Meanwhile questions burned on Remus' tongue, but he held them in abeyance; Severus said he would talk after they had tea, and for all Remus' curiosity it didn't seem that Severus was inclined to do it any sooner. Yet there seemed to be no danger of Severus suddenly vanishing or lapsing back into his catatonia, and so Remus gave a silent sigh and began to eat as well.

It was odd not feeding Severus, and Remus found himself glancing often at Severus' hands, fascinated by the simple movements as Severus conveyed food from plate to mouth. It was very quiet in the room, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the small ones they each made as they ate. It seemed interminable, and Remus wondered how he had lived in this silence for so long and barely noticed it when Severus couldn't speak, yet now it seemed almost oppressive when he knew Severus could, and simply would not. Finally it was over, however, and Remus moved quickly to clear the table.

He had been aware of Severus looking at him from time to time as they ate, but Severus would always move his gaze away if Remus tried to meet his eyes. For all Severus' seeming to act normal, there was definitely something going on, and Remus was determined to get to the bottom of it. He refilled Severus' teacup to forestall another delay on that front, then sank back down in this chair and fixed Severus with a stern look.

"Not that I'm not very grateful you're awake, Severus, because I am, but... what's going on?" he asked, voice low, almost gentle. 

"Nothing is going on." Severus glared back in return, his expression almost defiant. "I recovered."

"Severus..."

Stony silence.

Remus sighed, leaning forward. He wanted to touch Severus, but he held himself in check. It felt unnatural to do so, his hands having become intimately acquainted with the feel of Severus' skin, the play of muscles beneath it. He could see Severus' hands, and he knew how each finger felt, the slender strength of the bones, the long, smooth shell of nails, unbroken and unblemished now by either potions or imprisonment. Severus had beautiful hands.

Lifting his gaze to Severus' eyes almost guiltily, Remus tried a smile and a different tactic. "I really am glad you're awake. Not that I minded caring for you at all, but it's nice to hear your voice, to know that you're really all right. I was afraid that I might bollocks it up and do you more harm than good."

"I am very resilient," Severus replied almost grudgingly, his face still a mask.

"I can see that," Remus continued, nodding in approval. His tone became coaxing. "Don't you want to talk about it? Or about anything?"

"Not particularly, no." Severus raised a brow. "I believe we are finished now, Lupin. I am going to go read for a while."

Frustrated, Remus watched as Severus rose to his feet and made his way toward the hearth. Severus sank down in his normal chair, although Remus wasn't certain if it was because it was the chair Remus had always put him in, or merely the first one he had come to. Did Severus remember anything of the last two months? And if so, was he angry at having been at Remus' mercy? Given Severus' nature, Remus had no doubt that pride and stubbornness could have helped pull Severus out of his fugue, but the fact was that Remus just didn't know enough about psychology in order to figure out what might have happened. As always Severus was an enigma, one who drew his privacy about him like the dark robes he wore, enveloping him and shielding his inner workings like armor.

Yet somehow Remus thought that Severus must need to talk about what happened. How could he not, given the situation, all that he must have suffered? Internalizing was something with which Remus was familiar, and from long experience he knew that it wasn't good. Things could eat a person from within, leaving them cold and hollow. Severus had spent to long as a shell for Remus to have any desire to see him return to that condition. But beyond using an Imperius, Remus saw no way to force Severus to talk, not at this point.

With a sigh Remus rose to his feet, noting that Severus had picked up the book Remus had been reading to him. For a breathless moment he watched as Severus stared at the cover, wondering what could be going through Severus' mind as he looked at the cover of the collection of Shakespeare's plays. Then Severus opened the book, turning to the bookmark where Remus had stopped in the middle of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, and began to read.

So, Severus must remember something, Remus thought. Any other answers, it seemed, would be just like Severus' recovery, and would only be forthcoming when Severus himself was ready to give them. Remus picked up the teacups, moving to the sink so that he could wash the dishes, very glad that he had put away the spare wand, the one he had obtained for Severus' even before the rescue; he'd have to make sure to move it to an even more secure location. He had no desire for Severus to suddenly decide to leave before Remus was quite certain that he was as recovered as he claimed.


	3. Chapter 3

The morning passed in near silence. Remus tried several times to draw Severus out, but Severus was having none of it, and finally Remus gave up, conceding the battle. There were several chores which needed doing, and so Remus set about them, his hands going through the motions automatically as his mind continued to puzzle over Severus. A few times while he moved about the large room he thought he felt Severus' eyes on him, but whenever he would turn to verify it Severus would be seemingly engrossed in his book. 

At last there was nothing left to do in the house, and Remus made more tea, pouring a cup for Severus without being asked and placing it on the table at Severus' elbow without comment. Then he moved to the door and began donning his outer robes in preparation for heading to the greenhouses. He'd been unable to go out the day before, and Severus' return to consciousness didn't alleviate Remus' other responsibilities.

Remus turned, startled, to find Severus standing close behind him. So silent had Severus moved that Remus had never heard him at all, and he watched in confusion as Severus pulled down his own robes, sweeping them about his body.

"You don't have to come with me, Severus, I can handle this. You can stay next to the fire and read," Remus said. "There's no need in you getting chilled for no purpose."

Severus raised a brow at Remus, a gesture he remembered quite well from his time at Hogwart's and from endless Order meetings. "I'm coming with you," he replied firmly, reaching into the pockets of the robe to pull out his mittens. Remus cocked his head to one side; this was yet another sign that Severus did recall at least something. He wasn't quite certain why Severus wanted to accompany him, since he'd shown absolutely no pleasure in Remus' company up till now, but Remus didn't even bother to ask. After a moment he nodded, then moved to the door, opening it and stepping out into the bright whiteness of the bitterly cold day.

He couldn't help glancing back over his shoulder at Severus as they walked. It was easy to walk by himself through the snow, yet it felt oddly wrong not to have his arm around Severus, steadying and guiding him along the path to the greenhouses, and Remus found himself missing it. 

Don't be an idiot, he chided himself, keeping his eyes firmly on the path ahead, hunching his shoulders down in his robes against the gusting wind. This is right, and for the best. I just need to get him to open up, and then we can figure out where to go from there. No doubt he'll be quite anxious to leave, as soon as he gets his bearings. That thought caused an odd, dull pain in his midsection, which Remus ignored as much as he could. This wasn't about him, it was about Severus; he had made it so the minute he had rescued him from Azkaban.

Remus was chilled through by the time they made it to the first of the long rows of greenhouses, and he welcomed the puff of warm air which blew against his cheeks as he opened the door. He allowed Severus to move in past him, then closed the door once again, sealing them into a cocoon of warmth, light, and the scents of earth and life. He took an abortive step toward Severus, automatically intending to help him with his robes, then stopped himself and moved to remove his own, grateful for the fact that Severus wouldn't be able to tell that the flush on his cheeks was now more from embarrassment than the wind. Remus hung his robes on one of the hooks by the door, then stuffed his gloves in the pockets and turned to watch Severus doing the same.

"Have a seat anywhere that you like, this will take a little while," Remus said, offering Severus a smile that was met with a smoothly bland expression. Severus' own cheeks were pink, as was the tip of his nose, and Remus felt the absolutely insane impulse to step closer, to press his cheek against Severus' and feel the smooth slide of cool skin. Golden eyes widened for a moment in surprise at the bizarre notion, then Remus whirled and strode to the workbench, where his gloves and tools were kept in a tidy arrangement. He reached for his apron, tying it around himself, disdaining the gloves for the moment in favor of wanting to feel the warm earth between his fingers. Once he had picked up a small trowel and his bucket, he was ready to begin, and he moved toward the first row of plants, a rich, glorious growth of Deadly Nightshade, not daring to look at Severus again as he knelt at the base of the first plant and began to work lime into the soil around it.

The odd thoughts going through his mind disturbed Remus. He realized that in a certain way he had become attached to Severus, but why that attachment was taking on a definitely sensual edge just seemed wrong. Severus had no liking for him, and Remus had to understand that nothing about their time together here would have changed that in the slightest. And while Remus had more than once, in the past, thought that Severus was attractive - oddly enough, mostly when Severus was angry and his eyes were flashing with temper - it had never gone beyond that. It must be propinquity which was fueling this sudden attraction, propinquity and the needs of a man who had been alone in more ways than one for more years than he cared to count.

Lost in this reflection, Remus was surprised yet again by Severus, who had silently knelt down beside him and begun working on the next plant in the row. Remus started, drawing in a swift gasp, then turning to look at Severus as he buried his long fingers in the earth. Severus' head was close to the dull green leaves of the plant, hair as dark and glossy as the deadly black berries which clustered beneath them. All he could do was stare, even when Severus turned his head and gazed at him with those fathomless eyes.

"Here is belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, the lady of situations," Remus heard his own voice saying, quoting the lines from Eliot with the ease of long acquaintance. He didn't know why that had come out, only that he needed to speak, and that it seemed safer to offer up the words of someone else than to accidentally blurt out what was on his mind. No doubt it was the belladonna they tended which brought the line to him, that and the fact that he had read the poem to Severus only the week before.

He thought for a moment that Severus was going to snarl at him to be quiet, but then the line between Severus' brows smoothed out. "Here is the man with three staves, and here is the Wheel," he answered, offering the next lines. His voice was still not as velvety smooth as Remus remembered it from before Azkaban, but it was still dark and deep - perfect for poetry. Did Severus recall the poem from Remus' reading, or did he know it before? At the moment, that was less important than the fact that Severus had said something - anything - voluntarily.

A faint smile curved Remus' lips. If Severus wouldn't talk to him, perhaps he could draw him out in another way. "And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card, which is blank, is something he carries on his back," Remus offered then paused to see if Severus would continue.

"Which I am forbidden to see." Severus' voice became distant, his eyes less focused. "I do not find the Hanged Man. Fear death by water."

A shiver ran down Severus' spine, and he seemed to snap back to awareness, his lips turning down in a frown. He glared at Remus for a moment, then turned back to kneading the soil almost savagely.

"The Waste Land isn't the most cheerful of poems, is it?" Remus asked, keeping his voice light, while inside he was groaning. "Rather dark and hopeless."

Severus only grunted in reply, and although Remus waited, it was soon apparent that nothing further was forthcoming. With a silent sigh Remus turned back to his work, wondering if his patience would outlast Severus' determination.

They continued on in silence, alternating plants down the row until the task was at last finished. With a soft groan Remus rose back to his feet, stretching his hands over his head and hearing his back pop. A glance at Severus showed that he was rising as well, and Remus offered a small smile. "Thanks for the help, it made the chore go much faster."

Severus only shrugged, brushing the dirt from his hands, watching the dark soil drift back to the ground. Remus blinked, then moved toward the workbench again, picking up his gloves and a mask. This time he heard Severus coming up behind him. 

"I'll do the aconite," Severus said, plucking the mask out of Remus' hand unceremoniously.

"I can do it, Severus," Remus replied, surprised at Severus' offer. "I've been handling it for two months, it's not going to hurt me."

"Don't be more of an idiot than you can help, Lupin," Severus shot back, the familiar frown line back between his brows. "I'm here, so there is no need for you to do it and risk getting yourself poisoned. Unless you don't think that I am capable of doing it?"

The last line was a blatant challenge, although Remus wasn't certain if Severus meant to challenge Remus' perception of his abilities or his health. For a brief moment Remus considered arguing the point - perhaps if he pressed Severus, drove him into anger, he'd finally get some answers out of the frustrating man - but he decided against it almost as quickly. Making Severus angry might also make him want to leave, and Remus certainly wasn't ready for that possibility, not yet. Better to not upset the apple cart at this point, unless and until it became necessary.

"Of course I think you're capable," Remus said easily, dropping the gloves on the workbench. "And I'm grateful. Just don't overstress yourself, all right?" He couldn't help that last admonition, even though, as predicted, it made Severus' glower worsen.

"I'm quite all right, Lupin, I'm not an invalid." Sticking his nose in the air, Severus turned around and headed for the blue-flowering bed of wolfsbane, leaving Remus staring after him. Severus seemed to have him in a constant state of either puzzlement or frustration, and Remus wondered which of them would crack first.

Knowing Severus, though, Remus was pretty certain that Severus would be snarking long after Remus had collapsed into a twitching heap on the floor.

Glancing about, Remus decided to work on the St. John's Wort, as much because it was located next to the wolfsbane as anything else. He had no doubt that Severus didn't want or need the companionship of Remus working near him, but for once, Remus was going to have his way, no matter what Severus said.

Sighing, he crossed to the bed of rich vegetation, sinking once more to his knees and beginning to work. If life were to become a series of constant battles with Severus over such small things, it was going to be a very long, cold winter indeed.

*~*~*~

"Good night, Severus."

The words were too ingrained for Remus not to say, although he didn't hear more than a grunt in return. Settling down in the darkness, he sighed, closing his eyes and listening to Severus' breathing in the next bed.

The day had gotten no better after their work in the greenhouses, although, he supposed, it hadn't gotten any worse, either. He didn't know whether to be upset, concerned, or amused that Severus had gone on being so... so Severus, in his refusal to answer any questions, or reply to things in more than a few acerbic syllables. At the same time, however, Remus was worried. He couldn't put a finger on it, precisely, but he couldn't help fretting that there was something amiss, something he couldn't identify.

Remus chewed over the problem for a long time, coming no closer to any answers on his own, while the one person who could give them to him slumbered quietly. Finally Remus gave up, and exhaustion of mind as much of body pulled him quickly into a deep sleep.

He didn't know how much later it was when he was awoken by a cry, a low sound of anguish that made his heart pound as he sat up automatically, casting about in the darkness to identify the source. He listened, tilting his head to one side, trying to figure out if it was an animal close to the house, or one farther away. The sound came again, deep and ragged like a soul in pain, and with a start Remus realized it didn't come from outside the house, but from within. From Severus.

Throwing back the covers, Remus quickly crossed to Severus' bed, the low angle of the moon throwing Severus' features into harsh relief. The line between his brows was easy to see, the shadows making it look like a deep valley of suffering. Then Severus moved his head restlessly, shaking it - apparently in denial at whatever was causing his dreams to be tormented. Remus could see Severus' hands were knotted in the covers, and Severus' legs were moving restlessly, as though he were trying to run away from the terror that only he could see.

"Severus, Severus.... wake up," Remus said softly, reaching down to place a hand on Severus' shoulder. He shook it gently, but it didn't seem to make any difference. Continuing to thrash, Severus cried out again, the sound so full of distress that it cut Remus to the quick.

"Severus, it's a nightmare, come on, wake up," he urged again, shaking Severus more firmly this time. Whatever demons were chasing him, Remus didn't want Severus to suffer, especially as there was no need. They were safe here, and Severus needed to know that Remus wouldn't let anything happen to him.

For several minutes Remus continued his efforts to waken Severus, but it did no good. Finally he reached out to take Severus' hand, intending to pull him into a sitting position to see if that would help rouse him from the night terrors. Severus latched on to Remus' hand with an unexpectedly hard grip, squeezing it as though it were a lifeline, and slowly Severus relaxed clinging to Remus' hand as though he were never going to let go.

"Severus, is that better?" Remus asked, wondering if the passing of the dream would mean that he could wake Severus now. Again Remus shook Severus' shoulder, but Severus had now gone limp. He still gripped Remus' hand so tightly it almost hurt, but otherwise appeared to have lapsed back into something almost like his previous fugue.

Unexpectedly terrified himself, Remus shook Severus harder. He didn't want Severus to revert to his catatonic state - he wouldn't allow it, not if there was anything he could do. "Severus!" he called out, handling Severus more roughly, wanting - needing - to get a reaction. He tried pulling his hand from Severus', and at that point Severus began to move again, giving a choked moan and continuing to cling.

It wasn't a great reaction, but at least it was something, and Remus drew in a deep breath, calming himself. Severus apparently hadn't retreated back within himself, yet this sleeping state was another thing Remus had never encountered before. 

"Wake up, Severus," Remus tried again, both to rouse the sleeping man and to extract his hand from that vise-like grip, neither to any avail. He supposed he could resort to violence, either in shaking Severus or in retrieving his hand, but somehow it didn't seem worth it. Remus was tired, too, and so he gave up, sliding into the bed next to Severus and allowing Severus to keep hold of his hand, relaxing and trying to get comfortable on the narrow bed. Sleep was what he needed now, and to clear his mind of all the questions whirling through it, letting Severus sleep on, apparently now comfortable and relaxed. Remus was vaguely glad that his presence seemed to help Severus, even if Severus didn't seem to want anything to do with him during the day. 

But they were definitely going to talk about this in the morning - whether Severus liked it or not. 

 

Daylight saw them both waking at the same time, Remus opening his eyes to find Severus staring at him drowsily. For a moment Remus stared back, confused, before the events of the night came back to him. Apparently Severus' outrage woke at the same time, for Remus saw the moment his face went from peace to perturbation in a single breath.

"Lupin! What in the hell are you doing?"

Severus sat up, glaring down at Remus in outrage. Remus barely resisted the urge to groan out loud at the virtual replay of the previous morning. "You were having a nightmare again, Severus," he said, sitting up and rolling out of the bed. Severus continued to scowl and Remus shook his head. "Look, I can't help it if you're going to wake me up and then not let me get back to sleep without you touching me for comfort. I'm not trying to assault your maidenly virtue, Severus, I'm just trying to help!"

Severus' scowl didn't lessen. "A likely story," he said sarcastically. "I don't remember having any nightmares."

"You may not, but I do," Remus said, running a hand through his hair. "I have no reason at all to lie to you, do I? You've been having terrible dreams, ones that make you cry out and thrash. When I touch you, it seems to calm you down. Last night you were clinging to my hand so hard I thought you might break it." His voice softened. "Are you certain you don't remember anything about them, Severus? It might help you to... I don't know. Feel better, to talk about it."

"I don't remember anything," Severus said sullenly, throwing aside the covers and rising to his feet. "I think you're making it all up, as an excuse for..."

"For what?" Remus asked when Severus paused, obviously not being able to come up with anything. Shaking his head, Remus raised the hand Severus had latched on to, displaying the deep red marks of bruises that were beginning to turn purple. "Look, Severus, I'm not lying. I told you, I don't have any reason. You might not remember the nightmares, but you're having them. It started night before last, just before you woke up from your..." Remus paused, searching for a word. "Fugue?"

Severus' face went white at the sight of the bruises on Remus' hand, his lips pinching together as though he were in pain. "I don't remember," he insisted, then raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose for a moment, then lowered it once again, looking at Remus directly. "Look, Lupin, I know you rescued me. I was in bad shape, but I'm better now. You can tell Albus I don't need a babysitter..."

"Albus?" Remus repeated the name, gaping at Severus in shock. "Severus, you know that Albus..."

"Worries too damned much!" Severus snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "I know he must have sent you to retrieve me from the Death Eaters and hide me until it's safe for me to come back to the Order, but now that I'm recovered I'll be fine! Stop fussing, Lupin; it only makes me angry!"

Words failed Remus. He could only stare at Severus in disbelief. Severus talked as though Albus were still alive, as though the war were still going on! What in the world had happened to Severus in Azkaban? Had he cracked, losing his mind, or had someone done something to him? Had the pressure caused him to erase the memories of the last few years, or had they been stolen from him?

"I rescued you... from the Death Eaters." Remus said slowly, watching Severus closely.

"Yes, Lupin," Severus replied, looking at Remus as though he were the one who had lost his mind. A dark expression crossed Severus' face. "It was sheer bad luck that I was captured by Bellatrix, but rescuing me does not give you the right to hover over me like an invalid! I've been taking care of myself for almost forty years, and I full intend to keep doing it for the next forty as well. Albus fusses too much, and while I have to bear it from him, I damned sure don't have to take it from you!"

Remus wasn't certain that being imprisoned by the Ministry was as horrific a fate as being captured by Bellatrix. Then again, given what Severus had been through in Azkaban, Remus wasn't certain that the good guys in this case were any less blameworthy than the bad ones.

The Ministry was supposed to be just and reasonable, not cruel. The people who worked for it, overseeing the administration of justice, were supposed to be fair and rational men, not monsters. Yet Remus had seen the condition Severus was in; it wasn't too far fetched to believe that he might have been subjected to magical torture as well as physical neglect while under the "care" of the Ministry. In fact, the latter could have been a way to cover up the former - if Remus hadn't rescued him when he did, he had no doubt Severus would have been dead in a matter of only a few more days. There were many, many people who hated Severus, who didn't want to believe that he had done exactly as Albus had wished, and that Severus' actions were as vital to the Dark Lord's defeat as Harry Potter's had been.

Again Remus knew that he was out of his depth, feeling an upwelling of both anger and helplessness at the situation. Not at Severus, but at himself and his own ignorance of what to do to help Severus. Should he go along with Severus, agree to what Severus believed, or should he gently try to explain the situation?

Since Remus wasn't certain what might happen if he did explain, he decided to keep his mouth closed for the moment. He wouldn't agree, since he couldn't bring himself to mislead Severus, but he wouldn't contradict him directly, either. Tonight, after Severus was asleep, he would get out his wand and perform some detection spells; if Severus had been Obliviated, there should be some trace of residual magic to give an indication. If there wasn't... well, he would have to cross that bridge when he came to it.

Severus was still glaring at him, and Remus gave a weak smile. "All right, Severus, no fussing," he said, lifting his hands, palms up, to show his resignation to Severus' demand. He would simply have to resign himself to waiting and seeing what he could discover later. It was odd how Severus' return had raised far more issues than it had solved.

A hmpf was the only acknowledgment Remus received, and so he turned and went into the loo, leaving Severus to wait this time. If Severus was so determined to take care of himself, then he could wait for the facilities as well.

Breakfast passed in silence, and afterward, Remus did the dishes while Severus again moved to the chair by the fire, burying his nose in Shakespeare. Remus went about the rest of the indoor chores in silence, wondering if he should start insisting Severus do his share of the work. Not that there was a huge amount of it going, but if Severus was determined to carry his own weight, then it seemed only fair.

"Why don't you go fetch some firewood, Severus?" he asked casually as he made the beds. "We don't want to run low, do we? There's been a blizzard about once every eight or nine days, and we're due very soon. The pile is behind the house."

"I'm warm enough right now," Severus replied, keeping his eyes on the book. "Perhaps later."

"Later might be too late - and then you won't be warm enough," Remus pointed out reasonably.

"I don't feel like it."

Remus rolled his eyes, but he was more amused than anything else. "And you were telling me you were recovered? If you aren't feeling well, perhaps you should go back to bed."

Severus looked up from the book, frowning at Remus, who only smiled calmly in response. "Oh, fine," he grumbled, snapping the book shut unceremoniously and rising to his feet. He stalked toward the door, snatching up his outer robes and throwing them around his shoulders. Remus kept going with the beds, spreading the covers tautly and plumping the pillows. When he had finished, Remus looked up, surprised to see Severus standing at the door, unmoving, staring at it as though he'd never seen one before.

"Severus? Is something wrong?" he asked, taking a step forward, frowning in concern.

Severus seemed to jump, and then he whirled, facing Remus with a scowl. "Of course not, Lupin, don't be an idiot. What would be wrong?"

"I don't know." Remus took a few more steps toward. "You tell me, you're the one just standing there."

"I was putting on my gloves," Severus shot back, holding up his hand to show Remus the black-leather clad appendage. He raised a brow at Remus, but Remus merely shrugged and smiled.

And waited.

There was something going on here, Remus could feel it, something important - even if he wasn't exactly sure what it was. Severus was an excellent Legilimens, had been a perfect spy who had never been caught, so he was a master at hiding what he was really thinking and feeling. Yet the very fact that Severus was stalling on the chore - and he was, no matter how much he tried to dissemble about it - spoke volumes.

Severus glared for a few more moments, but Remus merely continued to smile calmly. His game face might not be nearly as good as Severus', but in this instance it would do.

"I'm going now," Severus said finally, speaking the words slowly and reluctantly. 

"All right."

Severus continued to frown, but since there was no reply to be made to Remus' mild comment, he turned back to the door again. Slowly he lifted his hand toward the knob, then stopped.

"If you help me, this will get done faster," Severus said, the words sounding as if they were being pulled from him by force.

Remus caught his breath, a light bulb suddenly going off in his head. Abruptly it all made sense - Severus crying out at night, his insistence on coming to the greenhouses yesterday, his reluctance to go outside now. Severus' reaction, even when catatonic...

Severus was afraid to be alone.

Pity shot through Remus. How horrible it must be for a man with Severus' fierce independence to suddenly be frightened of solitude. Severus had basically been abandoned to his fate in Azkaban, more alone than a man should ever have to be; no doubt it had affected him on a very fundamental level. It might even explain the gaps in Severus' memory - from the moment Albus Dumbledore had died, Severus Snape had been a man apart, one separated from everyone on earth, even when he had been in a crowded room. As Albus' killer, he was shunned by the very people he was trying to help; as a spy among the Death Eaters, he was a man for whom a single misspoken word could mean annihilation. Severus had been alone for years now, long before he had ended up in a cold, damp cell in prison. And apparently he couldn't handle being alone any longer.

Poor Severus, Remus thought, aching for the other man, because he, too, knew the depths of loneliness and isolation. In fact, Remus probably understood it better than anyone else. They were both men apart, both shunned for things that neither one could change.

"You're right, it would," Remus replied, smiling as he moved to don his own outerwear. He wouldn't leave Severus alone, not until Severus was ready for it. It might not be the right thing to do, or even the best thing for Severus in the long run, but Remus wasn't about to abandon Severus now.

Later that night, after Severus fell asleep, Remus cast every detection charm he knew, unsurprised when they revealed nothing. Severus wasn't cursed, he hadn't been Obliviated... he was merely a man paying a heavy price for having done the right thing. Conscious he might be, but Severus still needed Remus' help, and Remus would willingly give it. Even if Severus would never have asked, and would no doubt never appreciate it, Remus was going to make certain that Severus recovered from this.

Saving Severus' life had made him responsible until Severus recovered fully. Remus never even paused to ask himself why it was a responsibility he was so eager to assume.

*~*

The blizzard Remus had been expected arrived two days later, slamming into the Millhouse and causing the old building to shake alarmingly. The first one to hit, over a month ago, had worried Remus greatly, and he had spent a lot of time pacing and looking at the roof in concern, wondering if it were going to blow off or collapse in on them. Yet the old place had withstood the savage storm, and several more since then, so Remus had gradually relaxed. He still checked the eaves every time, but apparently the builders had known what they were doing, and they were safe enough within the old walls.

The raging wind and driving snow meant no trip to the greenhouses, but Remus had secured everything the previous day, and there was nothing to do now but wait out the storm and repair any damages afterward. Fortunately the greenhouse glass had been charmed against breakage, and the worst Remus had needed to contend with after previous storms was clearing away enormous drifts of snow to allow the sunlight through. As a result, however, there was little to do once the necessary bits of cleaning were completed, and so when Severus settled down with a book, Remus had nothing much else to do except join him, selecting a collection of poetry while Severus continued to make his way through The Compleat Works.

Donne and Lovelace didn't distract him fully, and Remus found himself glancing up at Severus from time to time, studying him. Severus was still having nightmares, and Remus couldn't keep himself from offering what comfort he could. He had simply taken to waking up before Severus did, and removing himself back to his own bed so that Severus wouldn't be appalled come morning. If he truly didn't remember the nightmares, as he claimed every time Remus mentioned them, then he probably would think Remus was up to no good climbing into his bed every night. Which didn't solve anything, Remus knew, except it was the only way that he, himself, could get any sleep. The fact that he enjoyed holding Severus in his arms once the nightmares eased was something he didn't want to examine too closely; any attachment could only be completely one sided, and end very badly for him.

It was quiet for a while, except for the turning of pages and the faint crackle of the fire, and Remus found himself growing restless. It was surprising how much he missed reading to Severus, even if he weren't completely certain if Severus had heard any of it at all. He had gotten used to talking, to sharing things with Severus, and so now the place felt almost too quiet - especially since Severus didn't have any inclination to chat. It shouldn't have bothered him, Remus realized, since he had lived alone and in silence for a very long time, but it did. Unfortunately, however, there didn't seem to be any real cure for it.

He turned his attention back to his book with a sigh, at which point Severus slammed his own book shut and rose to his feet. Remus looked up, surprised.

"Is something wrong?"

The soft question caused Severus' head to turn, and he regarded Remus with annoyance. "No, Lupin, nothing is wrong. I simply don't feel like reading any longer."

Remus closed his own book, not letting hope show in his face. "I did bring a chess set, if you'd like a game."

Annoyance became a scowl. "I don't care for chess. Somehow the manipulation of helpless pieces where some are sacrificed to save others doesn't hold much appeal for me."

Remus wasn't certain if it was a comment or a reprimand, but he winced any way. "Touche," he replied softly. "So, what would you like to do instead of reading?"

Severus glared for a moment longer, then raised a brow. "Dare I to hope that there is a cauldron somewhere closer than the next county? There are enough things in the cupboard that I can make at least some simple potion." Long, slender fingers flexed, and Remus had to suppress a smile, so much did the gesture remind him of a pianist limbering up before addressing a keyboard. 

"Actually, yes, there is," Remus replied, setting his book aside and standing. After retrieving one of the oil lamps from its hook in the ceiling, he beckoned Severus to follow him, crossing to the side of the room opposite the hearth. Bending down, Remus caught a depressed ring in the floor, then lifted a section that fell back on a hinge. Severus must not have noticed the cellar before, for both brows lifted this time, and Remus couldn't hold his smile in check this time. How rare was it to surprise a man like Severus Snape?

There were narrow stairs leading down, and Remus took them, knowing that Severus would follow. "The root cellar, where I've been storing the harvest for the last two months," Remus explained, indicating the tidy boxes and bins of fruits, seeds, leaves, and roots, all of them sorted and labeled in his neat handwriting. Moving deeper into the low-ceilinged room, Remus passed several piles, then stopped and lifted up a large iron cauldron, the one he had obtained for Severus before ever going to Azkaban. Turning, he looked at Severus. "Will this do?"

"It is acceptable," Severus replied, but Remus thought he saw satisfaction in Severus' eyes. Severus reached out an took the handle from Remus rather perfunctorily, as though he though Remus might snatch the prize away from him. "I assume I can use anything down here?" The tone was casual, but Remus wasn't fooled. He was delighted, in fact, that Severus seemed to be taking a real interest in something.

"Within reason, yes." He pointed to a section where several small boxes were lined up against the wall. "Less of the exotics, of course, but the common ingredients like shrivel fig and nettle and such are pretty much free." Remus paused for a moment, wondering if he should show Severus what else he had, then sighed and decided that no doubt Severus would discover soon enough. Severus was looking about with all the avidity of a child in Honeyduke's, so there was no way he was going to miss it. "In fact... come over here."

In the farthest corner was another set of boxes, these set apart from the others because Remus had brought them with him. He'd not wanted to lug the big cauldron so far in case he wanted it for cooking, but he'd given up on the potions ingredients and moved them out of the way of the steadily mounting fruits of the greenhouses.

"There, feel free," Remus said, gesturing to the stack.

Severus didn't even try to mask his surprise this time, and he stepped closer to read the labels. "Gillyweed. Billywigs. Cobra venom. Dragon scales." Dark eyes suddenly fixed Remus, narrowing in suspicion. "You brought these."

"Yes." There didn't seem to be any point in denying it.

"Did you think I would brew you the Wolfsbane while we were here?" Severus didn't look angry, but there was an expression on his face that Remus couldn't quite read. Was it speculation?

"I thought I would ask," Remus admitted, shrugging lightly. "After all, we're stuck here for a while, and I thought you might not want to share the place with a murderous beast."

"You're right about that," Severus muttered darkly. Remus waited, holding his breath, wondering if Severus would ask what Remus thought was the obvious question: how long they had been there, and how much longer they were to remain. If Severus thought they were in hiding from the Death Eater's, surely he'd eventually want to know what the plans were beyond merely hiding out in the middle of nowhere.

Severus, however, didn't ask.

"I'll brew it," he said, shrugging. "I might as well, since there is nothing better to do." Severus paused, the frown returning. "There are many more things here than the potion requires, some of them rather exotic."

"I thought you might want to make some other things," Remus replied. Most of them were for the curative potion, but Remus decided not to bring that up, at least not until Severus was recovered enough to accept that the war was over and that Albus was dead.

A non-committal sound greeted those words, and Remus sighed quietly. "Well, I'll leave you to gather whatever you'd like. Call out if you need anything."

Severus whirled, robes brushing the dirt floor and raising a small cloud of dust. Remus could see Severus' eyes had widened in what seemed to be alarm, and he barely controlled himself from smacking his head in realization. Going upstairs meant leaving Severus alone down here, and while Severus seemed comfortable enough with either of them using the loo in privacy, obviously the cellar was a different matter. The problem was, did he stay or go? Which one might damage Severus more?

Standing indecisively, Remus wondered if he just ought to start confronting the problem instead of treating Severus with kid gloves. "Is there a problem, Severus?" he asked softly.

Severus blinked, apparently realizing his betray action, and pulled himself to his full height, his head almost brushing the low ceiling. "Of course not," he replied disdainfully, but there wasn't as much heat in it as usual. "What could be wrong?"

"I don't know," Remus replied, watching Severus closely. Severus gazed back rather sullenly, so Remus smiled and turned once more to leave. "Since everything is all right, I'll just go on."

One slow step toward the stairs, then another, then one more. "Lupin! Where have you hidden the aconite?"

"Against the left wall, third stack," Remus replied without turning. Another step.

"Lupin! What about the ashwinder eggs?" There was an odd tension in Severus' voice, but Remus wasn't going to back down, not unless Severus asked him to remain. Certain the very act of requesting Remus' presence would tell Severus something about his own state?

"In the special pile, near the top." Another step.

"Wait! How in the world am I supposed to carry all this back upstairs. If you want your bloody potion, come back here and help me carry this!"

With a sigh, Remus finally turned. Severus was very, very good at deception, apparently even of himself. He crossed back to Severus, seeing that there was an added pallor to his sallow skin. Remus felt guilty for trying to force the issue - Severus genuinely was afraid, and had a problem which is pride made it difficult for him to face. Adding to his burden apparently wasn't going to solve anything.

"Of course, Severus," he said, giving a rueful smile and holding out his arms, which Severus immediately began to fill with boxes and jars. Remus followed along from pile to pile, watching as Severus made his selections, becoming totally engrossed in the task. Severus' face had relaxed and regained its color, and so Remus resigned himself to finding another way to try to help Severus move past his difficulties. 

He just hoped that such a way even existed.


	4. Chapter 4

Life slipped into a routine over the next few weeks, as December crept closer to its end, toward Christmas and the New Year. Chores in the house and working among the plants in the morning, then Severus would brew in the afternoons and evenings while Remus read or worked on small maintenance chores inside. They didn't converse much, since every time Remus tried to bring up any subject outside of their immediate situation, Severus would change the subject, or abruptly excuse himself to deal with a potion or head to the loo. Short of shouting or physically restraining Severus to make him listen, Remus didn't know what to do. He was still very leery of the possibility of Severus relapsing as abruptly as he had seemed to recover.

Over the course of that time, however, Severus' nightmares seemed to ease, to a point where Remus could comfort him with just a touch and a few murmured words. Remus was annoyed with himself for the tiny sense of loss he felt at the development, and reminded himself sternly that propinquity had a way of causing such things, and that he should be happy for both Severus' sake and his own. Yet that one small step forward was the only sign that Severus might be improving in any way; he still didn't allow Remus out of the house without being right beside him, and he invented excuses to pull Remus down into the cellar whenever there was an item he needed for a potion. It was almost as though Severus were afraid that Remus would vanish if allowed out of his sight, and any reassurances Remus tried to offer were met with haughty disdain and dismissal, with Severus refusing to acknowledge that the problem even existed.

The full moon was due on Christmas Eve, much to Remus' dismay, and he resigned himself to spending Christmas Day weak and exhausted. Severus, true to his promise, had brewed the Wolfsbane potion, and Remus took it under his close supervision, downing the foul concoction gratefully. It would keep him safe, and it would mean that Severus wouldn't have to be alone.

"Thanks," Remus said hoarsely after downing the last dose, giving Severus a weak smile in reply to the expected hmphf before turning to the sink to wash out the cup Severus had given him the potion in. He glanced out the window at the whiteness which was slowly fading toward grey, and sighed. Somehow having to transform on this night was always especially difficult to accept emotionally, perhaps because in a very real way it emphasized his separateness from his fellow man on that night when peace and brotherhood were universally acknowledged. 

Sighing, he stepped back from the sink, and looked over at where Severus was busily tidying up his work area. Other than the Wolfsbane, he had managed to brew a few other potions, all neatly bottled and stored in the cupboard. Remus didn't know what Severus meant to do with them, if anything at all; mostly they were something to do, he suspected, something to give Severus a purpose, to bring reassurance through familiarity. Perhaps too, they gave Severus at least some feeling of control over his life, an action rather than a mere reaction. If it were therapeutic, so much the better.

Remus hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should go through with what he planned earlier, then shrugged and decided it probably couldn't hurt. It was a token gesture, really, and it might even make Severus angry, but somehow Remus just couldn't allow the holiday to pass totally unremarked. Crossing to his bed, he knelt down and reached beneath it, withdrawing a small, paper wrapped parcel. Remus still stinted on magic, but he had transfigured the plain brown paper to a shiny green, and managed to even produce a bow of silver. He'd done it after Severus had gone to sleep the previous night, and he could only hope that his decision had been the correct one.

He hid the gift behind his back before approaching Severus, smiling rather diffidently. "Severus? Happy Christmas," Remus said softly, producing the present and offering to the other man. "It's not much, but... well, it's Christmas, and I wanted to give you something."

Severus had turned when Remus approached, raising a brow in inquiry, and now its partner joined it, before they both lowered. He wasn't quite scowling, but he was looking at Remus very intently, not reaching for the gift. "Why?" he asked, his tone giving away nothing of what he might be thinking.

Remus hesitated. "Well, it's Christmas," he replied, his smile fading a bit. Apparently this hadn't been a good idea. "And you brewed the potion for me, for which I'm grateful." Severus' expression still didn't change, and Remus sighed. "And because I wanted to, that's all. I suppose it's rather silly, given that we're stuck here and you don't even like me, but I wanted you to have something. For all that's happening, this is a special Christmas." Even if Severus might not consider his still being alive to make the day special, Remus certainly did.

Neither of them moved for a moment, and Remus felt his face flush, feeling like an idiot for standing there holding out a gift to a man who had always hated him. That Remus didn't hate Severus at all - never had, and certainly his feelings now were very far from it - didn't signify. Apparently for all their seeming harmony over the last few weeks, apparently Severus was still nurturing a burning resentment against him for crimes both real and imagined. Remus had allowed himself to conveniently forget that.

"Sorry, it was a stupid idea," he muttered. About to turn away, he was surprised when Severus' hand flashed out, grasping the present. Remus' eyes widened, and he lifted his gaze to search Severus' face. Severus looked as though he had swallowed something sour, but then drew a heavy sigh.

"Thank you," he said, the words sounding slow and difficult, but spoken - probably the first time Severus had thanked him for anything. Remus felt an odd lurch in his chest, and, surprised, he released the package, regarding Severus with wide eyes.

"You're welcome," Remus replied automatically, too dazed by the fact that Severus had actually expressed gratitude to say anything else. He watched as Severus examined the package - wondering if Severus thought he might have trapped it - then as Severus' long fingers untied the bow neatly, laying it on the counter. Slowly, carefully not tearing it, Severus opened the shiny green paper, his hands almost seeming to caress the smooth surface. It seemed to take forever, but finally he revealed the book within.

The green paper joined the ribbon, then Severus turned the book over in his hands, not saying anything. He was quiet for so long that Remus began to wonder once again if he'd made a mistake, but then Severus looked up. 

"I know this book," he said quietly. Remus couldn't read the expression in Severus' eyes, but at least he wasn't shouting, or hurling the book at a wall.

"Yes," he said, smiling slightly. "I read it to you when you were... ill." It seemed somehow better not to mention that he wasn't certain Severus had even heard him at the time. "I thought you might like to have it. I know it's not much, but... well, I wasn't thinking in terms of the holidays when we got here."

Remus wasn't sure if Severus even heard him this time, either. Severus had returned to looking at the book, opening it and reading the inscription Remus had written on the inside of the cover. To Severus, Happy Christmas. May you, in the New Year to come, enjoy such liberty. Remus.

"I know this," Severus repeated, more to himself than Remus. He began to turn pages of the book, which obligingly beckoned him toward the correct poem. It was one of Remus' favorites, the one he had fallen asleep quoting the morning after the last full moon, when he had returned to find Severus lying on the bed in wide-eyed terror. Remus still regretted what Severus must have suffered that night. Even if Severus didn't seem to remember it, Remus certainly did, as well as he remembered the way Severus finally relaxed in his arms, soothed by his presence.

Severus' finger traced down the page, and he began to read in his deep, sonorous voice, the sound of it causing a chill to run down Remus' spine.

"When Love with unconfinèd wings   
Hovers within my gates,   
And my divine Althea brings   
To whisper at the grates;   
When I lie tangled in her hair   
And fetter'd to her eye,   
The birds that wanton in the air   
Know no such liberty. 

When flowing cups run swiftly round   
With no allaying Thames,   
Our careless heads with roses bound,   
Our hearts with loyal flames;   
When thirsty grief in wine we steep,   
When healths and draughts go free—   
Fishes that tipple in the deep   
Know no such liberty. 

When, like committed linnets, I   
With shriller throat shall sing   
The sweetness, mercy, majesty,   
And glories of my King;   
When I shall voice aloud how good   
He is, how great should be,   
Enlargèd winds, that curl the flood,   
Know no such liberty. 

Stone walls do not a prison make,   
Nor iron bars a cage;   
Minds innocent and quiet take   
That for an hermitage;   
If I have freedom in my love   
And in my soul am free,   
Angels alone, that soar above,   
Enjoy such liberty."

The poem ended and the room fell silent, save for the crackle of the fire in the hearth and the sound of the wind outside rattling the shutters. Remus felt as though he were holding his breath, and then Severus looked up at him, their eyes meeting and holding for a long, breathless moment. There was something in Severus' eyes, a thought Remus could almost see, one that fascinated him, seeming to contain some vast depth that beckoned to him, urging him to fall into the darkness and drown. He wasn't certain how long they might have stood there, minutes or hours while he seemed to wait for something he couldn't quite understand, but a sudden chill down his spine caused Remus to gasp. It was followed by a sharp, familiar pain, and Remus realized that he had, for only the second time in his life, completely forgotten the moon.

"Transformation," he groan, staggering back from Severus, turning and making his slow, painful way toward the loo. He'd planned on transforming in there, since he was quite certain Severus had no desire to witness the phenomenon a third time in his life. Especially when the other two times had been very traumatic.

"Lupin! Where are you going?"

A familiar question, but there was more irritation than panic in Severus' voice. Remus was trying to strip his clothing off as he moved, knowing from awful experience that it not only destroyed the fabric, but it made the already agonizing experience worse. "Loo," he muttered, not stopping to explain further. There wasn't time.

Strong hands on his arm arrested his movements, and he looked over his shoulder, shocked that Severus had not only followed him, but was touching him. Stripping him, Remus realized, so dazed that he almost didn't feel the increasing pain of the transformation. He could make no comment, however, merely accepting the help. When his balance gave out and he collapsed on the floor, Severus finished the task, efficiently and impersonally baring Remus. All Remus could do was shudder on the hard wood and look up at Severus with gratitude as his body twisted and contorted.

The only bad part about the Wolfsbane potion was that Remus remembered the transformation, every agonizing moment of it as the curse tore him apart and put his back together, distorting feature and faculty, ripping and shredding and reforming with no regard to the suffering inflicted in the process. Yet Remus couldn't tear his gaze away from Severus, who stood back, watching him with a blank expression and hooded eyes which betrayed nothing. 

Is he frightened? Does he hate me even more now? The distant man-mind wondered, worry managing to ride over the pain. At least he isn't running away...

At last it was over. It always seemed to last an eternity, and although Remus had been told it was really no more than a few brief minutes, he'd thought that time must indeed be relative. Yet he was glad when he finally lay still, panting and weak on the floor, heaving deep, gulping breaths between fangs that could rend flesh from bone.

Severus didn't move, and for a while longer Remus couldn't; another effect of the Wolfsbane weakening the curse enough to allow him to keep his mind was that it stripped him of the adrenaline-fired fury and strength which made the wolf-form so deadly. Finally, however, Remus managed to slowly haul himself up onto all four furry legs, then shook himself, giving a wolfish sigh.

Aware that Severus was still standing rigid, Remus backed away from him slowly. His instinct, of course, was to approach and sniff to make sure that Severus was all right, but he knew that would probably alarm Severus. Instead, he concentrated on keeping his front lower than his back, plumed tail swishing slightly as he made himself as appealing and non-threatening as possible.

He finally had to stop when his butt hit the wall, and he sat down, whimpering softly, tail thumping against the wood. After a moment Severus unfroze, and Remus barely kept himself from giving a bark of relief.

Amber eyes tracked Severus as he half-turned, moving back toward the counter. Remus was aware that Severus had him in his peripheral vision, however, and so he didn't move, watching and waiting to see what Severus would do. Even though Severus had made the potion and they both had been fully cognizant of the approach of the moon, they hadn't discussed what would happen after Remus was no longer human; Remus had thought it quite possible that Severus would find out that being alone was far less frightening than sharing the room with a werewolf, potion or not.

Yet Severus seemed quite calm as he retrieved the book Remus had given him, then turned once more and made his way to his normal chair by the fire. Remus sniffed the air, surprised that there wasn't even a scent of fear in the air, that Severus apparently wasn't covering up - whatever Severus had felt in watching that transformation, alarm hadn't been a part of it. 

Severus settled down, opening his book, and Remus sighed, lowering himself to his belly and resting his head on his paws. Despite the fact that Severus didn't seem afraid of him, Remus had no desire to risk a bad reaction by overstepping his welcome. He was quite content just to be able to remain inside, rather than freezing out in the snow as he had done before. It was surprising to him how relatively easily Severus was accepting this whole thing, given their history, but Remus was thankful for it - there was no way he could offer much in the way of comfort and reassurance at the moment.

For a long time there was no sound except those of wind and hearth, and the soft brush of turning pages as Severus read. Remus dozed peacefully as the hour grew late, but when Severus rose, obviously with the intention of going to bed, Remus did, too - and heaved a sigh because there was a favor he needed, one that he'd not thought to mention to Severus before.

Severus' eyes were on him, and Remus let his tongue loll out, head dropping rather sheepishly. Severus lifted a brow. "What do you want, Lupin? I can see it in your eyes."

Remus' head lifted, and his tail wagged again - Severus sounded neither wary nor annoyed, merely inquiring. Deciding to ask directly, Remus moved to the door, looking up at the knob and then turning to glance at Severus over his shoulder. He made a soft chuffing sound, not a bark, hoping that Severus had owned a pet at some point and would understand within Remus having to resort to scratching at the wood.

"Oh." Severus looked completely nonplussed for a moment, and Remus saw a trace of discomfort slide over his features before clearing. Severus still hesitated, but then gave a long-suffering, grumbling sigh and moved toward the door. "All right, fine," he said, frowning at Remus as he moved to take his robes from the hook. His hand paused just above the fabric. "You're not planning to run off, are you?"

The grumbling question registered the first hint of fear Remus had detected that evening, and awkward though the gesture was in wolf form, he shook his head. Severus regarded him doubtfully for a moment, and Remus crouched down on the floor, putting his paws over his head in the cutest gesture he could think of. He had no words, but hopefully the silliness of the posture would reassure Severus that he certainly didn't want to risk Severus' wrath by doing anything to annoy him.

To Remus' great surprise, one corner of Severus' mouth lifted in what, on anyone else, would almost have been considered a smile. Remus' tail thumped the floor again as Severus went about putting on his robes. It was, of course, unnecessary for Severus to accompany him, but apparently the presence of a werewolf was still preferable to being alone.

"Five minutes," Severus warned as he opened the door, and Remus gave a soft woof of acknowledgment before stepping out into the frigid, moonlit night. 

The brilliant illumination of the silver orb made it almost as bright as day, even to Remus' less acute lupine vision. The wind blew steadily, as it always seemed to do this close to the mountain, the air making the shadows of the bare-limbed trees dance upon the pristine snow. The wolf-body, however, was adapted better for this environment than his human one, thick fur protecting Remus from the worst of the chill. He cast a quick look back over his shoulder, seeing Severus standing just outside the door of the house, and so Remus trotted quickly toward some bushes so that Severus wouldn't have to stand too long in the cold.

A few moments later, he felt much more comfortable, and he emerged from the prickly evergreens which he had used to spare Severus' modesty. Severus, meanwhile, had advanced toward him, shoulders hunched against the wind. He stopped when Remus stepped back into the light, and for a long, breathless time man and wolf stood regarding each other.

It was odd how even though wolves couldn't see in color, Remus tended to "paint" his transformed vision with the colors which objects would properly be. Yet now, standing in the moonlight, he was aware that all about him were truly nothing but infinite shades of grey. All but Severus, it seemed, who stood out in sharp relief, a deeper darkness than even that of the night sky. Severus seemed more real, more solid than anything else in the world, despite the loss of his memories of the last few years. He was a man apart in more ways than one, and perhaps because of that Remus thought he understood him; Severus defended his vulnerability with a shell of anger and dislike, the way that Remus shielded his own behind mild humor and bookishness. Where Remus kept his darkness on the inside, where Severus wore his on the surface, almost in defiance - and yet inside, where it really mattered, Remus knew that there were far more similarities than differences between them.

The wolf form had an odd way of stripping away self-deception as surely as it stripped away the civilized human from the core of the monster beneath. As Remus stood there, looking at the sharp silhouette of Severus against the snow, he realized that somewhere along the line, caring for and caring about him had gotten all mixed up together, like the ingredients in one of Severus' potions. It was impossible now for Remus to separate one from the other, and while the man knew the impossibility of it all, the wolf felt only the raw, basic components of what it really wanted, both giving and receiving.

Love.

Human mind and wolf body, wolf perceptions and human awareness; in such a form it was impossible to mistake or deny what he had come to feel over the last three months. And the emotion wasn't directed just at the man Severus was now, the man who didn't know the things he had done for good or ill, but at the totality that was Severus. Complicated, angry, infuriating, smug, bitter, intelligent, totally maddening Severus, who had somehow gotten under Remus' skin and the wolf's fur without either of them intending it. 

Not that Remus had any illusions that Severus would be happy if he knew; quite the contrary, given their rocky past. He was quite certain that Severus would be horrified to know that both halves of Remus' body and soul wanted him, that the man wished to please and the wolf wanted to mate, that the man would lay down his life and the wolf would kill for him. All this churned inside Remus, both the joy of discovery and the sense of loss, the urge of the wolf to surge forward and the sadness of the man at knowing he must pull back. Impulse warred with intellect, the id with the superego, leading Remus to do the only thing he could in the circumstances. Throwing back his head, he howled his happiness and sorrow at the sky, crying out from the depths of his soul to the uncaring moon.

The howl echoed across the snow-covered hills, Remus' exquisitely sensitive hearing picking up the reverberations as they bounced and called back to him, a single voice sung it chorus to itself. Again he called out, releasing all his emotions to the wind, setting them free to be hollowed and diminished by the carelessly echoing land.

It helped, at least a little, and when his throat was hoarse and raw from the cold, Remus sat back on his haunches in the snow, looking over at Severus rather sheepishly, glad that there was no way for Severus to use Legilimency to read him in this form. Severus stood, apparently transfixed, head cocked to the side as though he were straining with human ears to catch the last, dying sounds of Remus' cry. Dark eyes were fixed on Remus, and beneath that gaze Remus felt naked and vulnerable in a way he never had before. His feelings were on display, and the only saving grace was that human knowledge and human vision didn't have what was needed to see them.

The echoes finally died, and Severus straighted his head. There was silence for a moment, then Severus sighed. "I don't know what that was all about, Lupin, but it took more than five minutes. Come inside, now. I'm freezing, and it's all your fault."

Lifting his furry butt from the snow, Remus ducked his head and trotted after Severus' retreating form back to the house. It was warmer in there, it was true, but more importantly, Severus would be inside with him. It would have to come to an end sooner or later, Remus knew; eventually they must leave this place, and eventually Severus must leave him. And yet, for now, Remus had what he had, and he would just have to make the best of it, enjoy it for what it was and care for Severus as long as Severus allowed it. It was true that for now Severus didn't want to be alone, didn't want Remus out of his sight, but that would change; it must change, because that was what was best for Severus in the long run. And when it did, Remus would be left alone again, alone to continue in whatever direction life took him, as Severus moved alone toward whatever lay in his future.

It was Remus' greatest regret, knowing that no matter what he wanted, nor how much he had just realized he wanted it, those footsteps would never move along side by side.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Waking was a slow and uncomfortable process, but far, far better than it had been the last time. There was a soft mattress against his back and snug blankets over him, and rather than freezing to death he was comfortable and blessedly warm. Yet for all those externals, it still hurt, and Remus gave a soft groan as he opened his eyes, peering up at the high ceiling as he tried to judge how late he had slept.

"It's about time." Severus' voice came from his right, and Remus turned his head slowly and carefully, looking over at the other man with a rueful smile. Severus gazed back, sitting on the edge of his own bed - made, Remus noted absently - but said nothing else.

"Sorry," Remus replied, then made to move back the covers and rise. Surprisingly Severus was immediately at his side, pushing on his chest and forcing him back down.

"Don't be an idiot, Lupin," Severus said, although there wasn't any heat in his tone. "I was merely observing that you've been asleep for longer than I expected, but there is no need to get up yet. Here. Drink this."

A bottle was suddenly placed under his nose, and Remus blinked. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what it was, but there was an odd, intense look in Severus' eyes that Remus decided not to argue with. He parted his lips obediently, and when the cool, sweet taste of the pain potion rolled over his tongue, he barely kept from sighing in relief.

After the bottle was drained Severus moved back, and Remus watched him. He wasn't certain why Severus would do something like bringing him a potion to ease the after-effects of the transformation, but he was grateful for it nonetheless. Perhaps - and he felt his heart begin to pound suddenly at the thought - perhaps Severus actually had begun to soften toward him. Perhaps he considered Remus as more than just a convenient tool to ease his fear of being alone. Maybe, in some small way, Severus had begun to care about him, as Remus had realized last night that he cared for Severus.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Remus told himself to stop it. Realizing that he loved Severus was making him want to imagine that his feelings were returned, that there was a happily ever after possible when he knew quite well that it would never happen. Especially not with Severus not remembering the end of the war, or the things that had happened just before it. 

Should I tell him? Remus wondered. He opened his eyes again, watching as Severus bustled about across the room, apparently collecting the items to fix breakfast. He's stronger now than he was before. If I explained very gently, perhaps it wouldn't be the shock I've feared.

Severus prepared breakfast, while Remus continued to worry over telling Severus the full truth. If Severus could handle it, he needed to know what had happened, to face the fact that the world they must eventually return to wouldn't be what Severus was expecting. No doubt Severus thought that once they were "allowed to return" to civilization, Albus would be waiting for them, and Severus' old position of Potions Master and spy would continue. Severus didn't know that there was no going back, not for either of them, and that while Remus might have saved his life - a fact that Severus might not remember at all, or even believe - Remus had also condemned him to exile.

Unless...

Remus sat up abruptly, eyes going wide as the truth finally struck him. Remus couldn't go back to freedom, but Severus probably could. Severus hadn't actually escaped from Azkaban, Remus had, for all intents, kidnapped him. With Severus not remembering what had gone on, the Ministry couldn't extend his punishment. Could they?

Biting back a silent groan, Remus sighed. The Ministry, he well knew, could do anything they wanted, but the facts would prove Severus' innocence well enough. Especially if Remus went back and admitted his own guilt and took his punishment for the "kidnapping" - although in Remus' mind it was a rescue, pure and simple.

He owed that to Severus - the truth, and the right to choose. 

"We need to talk, Severus."

Severus turned, narrowing his eyes and frowning. "Can't it wait until after breakfast, at least? It was not a restful night, and I'm hungry. Which is your fault, I might add. You snore, Lupin. It was very annoying."

Remus couldn't help the small smile that curved his lips, despite his inner trepidation at what he knew he must say. Realizing he was in love with Severus hadn't suddenly gifted him with rose colored spectacles, nor had it suddenly made every one of Severus' words and actions beautiful in his eyes. Severus was still Severus, and Remus couldn't help but love him for it.

"Sorry to have disturbed you," Remus replied. He stopped then, struck by a sudden memory of a hand caressing between lupine ears, ruffling the soft fur there and combing the thick ruff on his neck. He looked at Severus closely, then sighed - it must have been a dream, for he couldn't imagine Severus actually having accept him enough to touch the wolf. Moving back the covers once again, he reached for his robe at the foot of the bed, shrugging into it then pulling it about him as he carefully rose to his feet.

Severus was watching him, although Remus couldn't tell if the grumpy expression was at Remus having gotten up or at the thought of having a talk before breakfast. Finally Severus shrugged, and Remus moved to the small table.

"I would have brought it to you in the bed," Severus said, making it sound like Remus was inconveniencing him by coming to the table.

"Thank you." It seemed Severus was just a mass of surprises today. First pain potion, then an offer of breakfast in bed. "I appreciate you going to the trouble of cooking for me."

Giving a shrug, Severus set toast and tea on the table, then bowls of oatmeal. "It's Christmas, isn't it? Since you gave me a present, I decided that the least I could do was make breakfast." He looked at Remus closely then. "Don't get used to it, though. I just don't like to feel indebted."

"Oh, no, of course not," Remus replied gravely. "I understand completely."

"Good." Severus slid into his own chair, then picked up his mug of tea and sipped it.

The food smelled good, and Remus decided that revelations probably were best done with both of them having full stomachs - after all, neither of them might feel like eating for a while. Breakfast, therefore, passed in silence, but as soon as they finished eating, Remus leaned back in his chair, looking at Severus soberly.

"No, leave the dishes, please," he said quickly when Severus made as if to stand. Severus paused, looking as though he were going to argue, but then taking his seat again. His dark eyes were suddenly wary.

"What is it?" he asked, and Remus could almost hear the way Severus' teeth were grinding.

"I just... well, I think it's time that we talked," Remus said, and decided to take things gently. "About what you remember from... before you got better. You see, I've been thinking, and..."

"I remember what I need to," Severus said quickly, and Remus could see his face close off, like a brick wall suddenly slamming down between them. "There is no need to discuss anything about it, I'm absolutely fine." Severus rose quickly.

"Severus, you don't know everything," Remus said desperately. "There are things... situations... it's not that easy."

"I don't care," Severus spat, snatching up his plate and cup stalking away from Remus, toward the kitchen. "I don't wish to discuss anything, and that's final."

"You can't just run away. Severus, please, won't you just listen?" Remus' tone was just short of pleading, but he couldn't help it. 

"No." Severus began to wash the dishes with far more noise than was necessary, clanking the crockery together in the water until Remus wondered if the pieces would shatter into fragments.

Remus stood, and as he approached Severus whirled, staring at him hard. There was anger in Severus' eyes, but also something else, and Remus paused, hesitating. Had it been fear?

"Severus..." Remus began. There was another flash of fear, and then Severus' eyes went vacant, that horrible emptiness Remus had watched for two months. Suddenly horrified, Remus stepped forward. "Severus, I'm sorry! Please, we don't have to talk if you don't wish to..."

Remus moved even closer, then laid a hand on Severus' arm, preparing to shake him if he must in order to banish the emptiness. Fear was rising within Remus as well - fear that he had caused Severus to retreat again into the silent darkness. Things had started going so well, and he had bollocksed it up by pressing too hard!

Severus' eyes were still empty, and with mounting desperation Remus shook his arm once, then again. "Severus..."

As abruptly as it had started, it ended, and Remus almost sagged in relief as Severus' eyes cleared, filling once again with the familiar sharp wariness. To Remus it was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen, and he nearly stumbled as he kept himself from flinging his arms around Severus.

"What are you doing, Lupin? I can manage a few dishes without you hovering over me. Go sit down before you fall down - didn't I tell you not to get out of bed?" Severus' tone was repressive. Reluctantly, Remus released he arm he had been clutching and took a step back, almost dizzy in the aftermath of horror and relief. It seemed that his concerns about Severus returning to the safety of his catatonia were correct, and he berated his own ignorance.

"I'm sorry, Severus. Yes, you're right," he murmured, then turned and started toward the bed once more. He felt weary, but at least there seemed to have been no permanent damage done. He hoped.

He felt Severus' eyes on him the whole way back to bed, and as he doffed the robe and crawled back under the coverlet, Remus gave up the idea of telling Severus anything. He didn't know what he was doing, and as had just been proved, it was dangerous. Severus was just going to have to recover in his own time, no matter how much Remus wished it otherwise. If, that was, Severus ever recovered at all.

Head on the pillow, Remus watched as Severus return to the washing up, apparently content once again. Heaving a sigh, Remus closed his eyes. He didn't know what was worse - that he apparently couldn't tell Severus the truth, or the fact that in all honesty, Remus would be perfectly content himself to keep going as they were for as long as possible. 

As he slipped off to sleep, Remus wished for a Christmas miracle, all along knowing in his heart that wishes rarely, if ever, came true.

*~*~

It was late afternoon when Remus woke again, feeling much better than he had earlier. He sat up, glancing around quickly to find Severus seated by the fire, book in hand. An unconscious sigh of relief escaped him, and he rose slowly, heading toward the loo. Severus didn't even look up.

I think I've annoyed him, Remus thought to himself as he took care of the necessities, then dressed and returned to the main room. He moved to the hearth, noticing the pot of stew simmering on the hook, and he turned to Severus with a small, apologetic smile, hoping to mend any damaged fences from earlier in the day. "Thanks for cooking; it smells wonderful. I suppose I never really thought about you being able to cook before, but I suppose it follows, doesn't it? I imagine after making something like the Wolfsbane, cooking must seem very easy."

Severus glanced up, his eyes unreadable for a moment as he scrutinized Remus closely. He seemed to hesitated for a moment, and then he gave a gesture that was half nod, half shrug. "It's not difficult," he said, watching Remus sit down in the chair opposite. "A recipe is a recipe." A certain amount of pride entered his tone, yet Remus thought he detected a hint of wistfulness as well. "I've always had a knack for it, and for modifying things to suit my purposes. It's served me well enough."

"Yes, I know it has," Remus replied. He smiled ruefully. "You remember how hopeless I was in potions at school? At least I'm a better cook than I ever was a brewer. Then again, vegetables don't tend to give me hives or itches the way that some potions ingredients do."

A dark brow lifted, and Severus' lips twisted into a smirk. "You were a walking disaster in potions as I recall. Slughorn was an idiot of a professor, however, so perhaps it wasn't entirely your fault. Just mostly."

"Why, Severus, a compliment?" Remus asked, surprised into a chuckle. "I'm touched. It must be the spirit of Christmas after all!"

"Don't let it go to your head, Lupin," Severus warned, half-rolling his eyes and giving a derisive snort. He turned his eyes back to his book. "Now do be quiet, would you? Dinner in an hour. It's not a Christmas goose, but to be honest, I've always loathed goose. And stuffing."

It was comfortable talking to Severus like this, and Remus wasn't certain if it were his newly-realized feelings making him feel that things were a bit more relaxed now. Perhaps it was just the tension of their earlier, near-disastrous argument, but Severus suddenly seemed almost mellow.

It would be far too easy to imagine a life like this, with Severus. A house. A comfortable fire. Evenings spent reading or in quiet conversation. There were many things about Severus which appealed to him on an intellectual level - Severus had a quick mind and a sharp, acid wit, which could be downright amusing when you didn't happen to be the subject of it. They got on well enough, too, for the most part. Better, Remus thought, than he would ever have imagined, so long as subjects Severus didn't wish to discuss were avoided with due diligence.

The necessary physical attraction was there, as well - at least on Remus' part. He'd known that since the morning he'd woken up next to Severus and felt that surge of arousal. In retrospect, it was easier to face that now, realizing how he had come to feel about Severus. Perhaps his body had known the connection before Remus' mind had been willing to own up to it, or had at least anticipated what was to come. After all, Remus had never hated Severus the way his friends had. There was too much in common between them, and Remus could understand Severus' position far too well for comfort. Remus had long ago come to terms with the fact that had he not been sorted into Gryffindor, he might have as easily been a target of James and Sirius as he had ended up being their friend. 

Looking at Severus now, seeing his long, pale fingers on the cover of the book, Remus wondered what it would be like to have those fingers tracing over his skin. To be the focus of those dark eyes, not in anger, but in desire. To hold that slender body against his own, feeling Severus arch in need, pale skin flushed and warm and silken beneath his hands. To hear Severus' voice, that voice which could sound like velvet over steel, dark and infinitely dangerous, calling out his name.

Oh, yes, it was easy to imagine their bodies entwined on the rug beneath their feet, lust and need mounting higher and hotter than the fire. The other side of the anger and bitterness Severus wore like armor was a deeply passionate nature, and it made Remus shiver to think about being the object of that much intensity. He'd seen Severus absorbed in his work, and he couldn't imagine the bliss it would give to be the focus of that concentration, to have Severus pursuing the perfect result he desired with all the same dedication and meticulous attention he put into his work. And for his part, Remus knew every line of Severus' body already, having cared for it for months. How much he suddenly longed to see that skin again, to be able to touch and caress rather than merely care and soothe. He knew the depths of passion in his own nature, as well, and he longed to show those depths to Severus, driving them both wild with pleasure.

Severus glanced back at him then, and Remus blinked, broken out of the sensual fog which had started to envelope him by the suddenly inquiring look Severus gave him.

He had been staring, he knew it, and as he felt his heart starting to pound Remus suddenly surged to his feet, needing to move away and cool off before Severus realized the direction of his thoughts. His cheeks were flushed, and he swallowed down a groan, grateful for the looseness of the robes he had donned, and glad that Severus didn't have the senses of a wolf to smell the desire he could scent rising from his own skin. It was foolish to get lost in impossible daydreams, especially with Severus sitting right there. No matter what happened, Severus mustn't find out how he felt; there were several possible reactions Severus could have to the knowledge, and not a single one of the realistic ones could be remotely considered good.

"Something wrong, Lupin?" Severus asked, and Remus shook his head. 

"No, no, just suddenly feeling overheated," he said, giving Severus a quick smile back over his shoulder. "It happens sometimes after a transformation - a lingering effect, nothing more. I'm just going to get a drink of water, then find a book to read. Or reread, as the case may be, since I think I've been through everything in the place at least once. Maybe twice!"

He was aware of Severus' eyes on him as he moved to the cupboard, retrieving a mug and dipping it into the large stone cistern in the corner that was keep filled by the stream. The water was achingly cold, but it was perfect for Remus' purposes, cooling him down in more ways than one. He knew he needed to be careful now on even more levels than he had before; he wanted Severus to be able to hear and accept the truth, but there were some particular revelations for which neither of them were ready.

When he'd drunk his fill, Remus washed his mug and placed it on the rack, then moved toward the small case where the books were kept. He'd not been kidding when he said that he'd read them all, and right now he felt too restless to get involved with any of them. Nevertheless his eyes moved over the titles, his mind automatically conjuring up characters and plots, ideas and theories, conflicts and resolutions for each one. No, he couldn't settle on any of these, and yet he didn't want to return to his chair with nothing to do accept think about Severus sitting there next to him, close enough to touch and yet as far away and unattainable as the moon. He suddenly felt like running, tearing off his robes and dashing outside to plunge naked into the snow, feeling the icy air caress his skin as he pounded over the slippery landscape. The wolf had howled last night, releasing his love and sorrow onto the wind, and now the man had the desire to do the same thing, to be able to find an outlet for the pent-up store of desire and denial which he must never reveal.

It's Christmas, he thought with a mental sigh, and the only present I want is one I can never have.

Turning toward the beds, he knelt down beside his, drawing from under it a box. It held the last few bits and bobs of his old life, the few things he had been able to take from his old flat without arousing suspicion about his unexpected departure, or that had simply been too precious to him to leave behind, lost forever. It wasn't a large box, but it's contents were precious to him, the only bits of his past he had left. One of those things was his journal, and he was struck by the sudden need to record his feelings in it about the revelations of this day, pouring out onto the paper his secret feelings and longings. Perhaps it would offer him the purge he needed, since he didn't have Moony's ability to howl it to the skies.

"What's all this, then?"

Severus' voice close behind startled Remus, and he turned, blinking in surprise. He hadn't noted the silent approach, and he flushed, slightly embarrassed to have Severus see how pathetic his treasures were.

"Nothing much, really," Remus replied. "Just a few personal things. Nothing of interest to you, I'm sure." He turned, gazing down into the box. No, Severus wouldn't be interested in the framed picture of Remus' parents, looking so young and in love, with a very small boy sitting on his mother's hip, wide, solemn eyes staring at the camera with trepidation. Or the small glass globe filled with fake, sparkly snow which settled around a small replica of Hogwarts, which had been a present from his mum the last Christmas before she had died the year Remus went off to school. Severus wouldn't care that she had been very proud of him for being a wizard like his father, just as he wouldn't care anything about the old Gryffindor scarf, tattered and frayed, that Remus had worn every year at school and then again when he had gone back to teach. There was precious little else, some photos of James and Lily, one of Sirius, another of Harry as a wee small baby in Lily's arms, two pairs of green eyes smiling. His Hogwart's letter from thirty years before, the parchment gone brown with time, and a pair of socks, orange and purple, which Albus had given him for his birthday, just two months before Albus had been lost forever. And his journal, old and rather battered, where he had, upon occasion, poured out heart and soul to ease his pain, as he wished to do now.

"What's this?" Severus asked, and before Remus could react, he had leaned over and drawn out the final object, one half-buried under the faded burgundy wool of the scarf. Straightening, Severus lifted the sheaf of bound parchment, the cover reading "Rememdium pro vomica lupus" in faded, handwritten script.

"Nothing," Remus responded, rising to his feet and holding out his hand. "Here, Severus, give it back, please. It's nonsense."

"A 'Cure for the Curse of the Wolf' is nonsense?" Severus asked, lifting a disbelieving brow at Remus. "Somehow I don't think so, at least not to you." He opened the rather brittle pages carefully, dark eyes scanning the cramped lines of Latin with the same ease they had Shakespeare or Donne. Severus frowned, that deep, familiar line appearing between his brows, and Remus watched, totally at a loss for how to respond.

"Where did you get this?" The question was sharp, Severus raising his head abruptly to stare at Remus, his expression hard. "This isn't something that you happened across in a second hand bookstore, Lupin. It's not even something from the Restricted Section at Hogwarts, or else I'd know it. How did it come to you?"

Remus felt like squirming under Severus' gaze, but he merely gave a wry smile and reached for the pages. "I stole it, Severus, what do you think?" He couldn't be completely honest about the where or the why, but the part about the theft itself was true enough. "It's nothing. Please, give it back."

Severus continued to glare at him, and as Remus watched in dismay, his face went from hard and distant to flushed and furious. "I know what this is, Lupin, I'm not stupid. This is your price, isn't it? The price for having rescued me? You know, I'd been wondering for some time just why Remus Lupin would agree to risk himself for my sake. Why you would face death, or even worse, capture and torture yourself for me. Oh, you're loyal to the Order, I'll admit, but not that loyal. You wouldn't stand up for me to your bloody damned friends in school, so why now? Why me? This is the perfect set up! Take Severus into hiding, in a place which just happens to conveniently have all the necessary ingredients for brewing a lycanthropy cure! When were you going to show this to me, Lupin? What were you planning on doing? Making me feel as though I owed you for rescuing me, or blackmailing me with sending me back to the Death Eaters if I refused to do it?"

Stunned, Remus stepped back from Severus. It hadn't been like that, not at all, not the way Severus made it seem. "No! Severus, I..." Remus grasped for words, trying to refute what Severus was implying, without inadvertently revealing so much as to send Severus back into catatonia. "I did plan, at first, on asking you to make it for me, but I had forgotten..."

Severus stepped closer, curling up the manuscript in one hand, clutching it so hard that his fingers turned white. "Forgotten something you had stolen? I think not, Lupin. No, this is perfect for you, isn't it? Rescue me and protect me, build up my trust of you, then present me with an ultimatum, or play upon the gratitude I should owe you for rescuing me. Does Albus know about this? That you would resort to blackmail or coercion to get this? No, I rather think he doesn't, given the look on your face. Don't play dumb with me, Lupin - you aren't stupid. You know about what this potion might do, right? It will cure you, but I know enough about lycanthropy to be able to tell that it might also kill you as well. I suspect Albus wouldn't allow you to do something like this, so you figured you'd get your chance by rescuing me and making me do it. Then if you died, I'd get the blame! How perfect - either you get what you want by using me, or you get your revenge for dying by me being accused of murdering you. I think you've managed to impress me, Lupin - that's a very, very Slytherin plan."

"You don't understand," Remus said desperately, feeling his heart twisting within his chest. "I did originally plan to ask you to do it, but I never would have turned you back over to...to -" Remus struggled not to say too much, still aware of Severus' vulnerability " - to your captors! And then when I saw the state you were in, I knew you might not even be able to brew the potion, but it didn't matter! Severus, you've got it wrong, if you'll just listen..."

"Listen to what, a bunch of lies? Oh, don't look so stunned." Severus' voice was full of contempt. "Tell me that Albus knows about this."

Remus couldn't lie, not about that, and he swallowed painfully. The truth would damn him, but he couldn't expand upon it without risking Severus' health. "No, he doesn't," he said, his voice almost a grown as a knife of pain stabbed through his chest. He was caught in a horrible position, between Severus' stubbornly suspicious nature and Severus' still-fragile psyche, and he couldn't think of a way to talk around it. "This isn't what it seems, Severus, I swear!"

"And you know this potion can - most likely will - kill you?" Severus continued as though Remus hadn't spoken, obviously absorbed in his own bitter condemnation of Remus' motives. "Are you so desperate to be free of the curse that you'll commit suicide? I know Albus wouldn't have sanctioned that. There's a war going on, Lupin, and you've put your own selfishness above the needs of everyone else!"

"Yes I know it might kill me, Severus, but I'm not suicidal, and I wasn't trying to make you take the blame!" Remus said urgently. Why couldn't Severus understand? After everything they had gone through, after all the care Remus had given him, why couldn't Severus give him just a tiny amount of trust? It was almost as though Severus were trying to push him away, but that didn't make any sense. "I just..."

"You abused your position in order to obtain something that you want, and you planned to use me to carry it out, right? That's all I need to know, Lupin. This conversation is at an end." Severus turned away, and strode toward the fireplace, his stiff back a reprimand all the more potent for the closeness they had begun to share.

"No, Severus, please, you have to let me explain." Remus pleaded. "If you'd just listen. You don't know everything. You won't let me tell you everything. You just have to trust me; I have never meant you or anyone else any harm. After I started taking care of you, I didn't even think about the potion again, and I wasn't even going to ask you to make it!" 

Severus didn't turn around or speak, and Remus stepped closer, holding up a hand in entreaty. "Please, Severus, hear me out. There are things you don't know..."

Severus whirled so quickly that Remus stepped back suddenly in surprise. Severus' face was no longer furious; it was cold, aloof, as harsh and withdrawn as though carved of marble. "I will make the potion, but when I am finished, I owe you nothing, do you understand me, Lupin? Nothing. That will be your payment for my rescue, and then I will leave here and head back to the Order, Albus' orders be damned! I'd rather risk the Dark Lord and Bellatrix getting at me than to spend one minute feeling beholden to you! But I warn you, Lupin - say one more thing to me about any of this, just one, and I will leave at once. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

Remus' shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "Yes, Severus, perfectly clear."

"Fine." With that final word he turned away once more, stalking toward the kitchen area and starting to assemble ingredients. Apparently he meant to get started at once.

Remus watched for a time, then turned away, heading toward his chair and practically falling into it as his knees seemed unable to hold him upright any longer. The whip-saw emotions of the last several hours, from love and bittersweet loss to shock, defensiveness, and now despair left him feeling weak and drained, no doubt exacerbated by the moon. Once again Severus had him at a loss, making him doubt his ability to ever do anything thing right, almost doubt his own sanity. 

Lifting a hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and sighing. He needed to talk to Severus more than ever, make him understand, and yet Severus had neatly boxed him into a corner. He couldn't talk about Albus and the truth of their situation, he couldn't defend himself, he couldn't lie... and now he was barely allowed to speak at all, lest Severus make good on his threat to leave. Remus thought Severus might be bluffing on that on, but he knew he couldn't take the chance. Even though he was fairly certain Severus could go back and probably even win his freedom from the Ministry, he might be killed before he even got there, and not by the Death Eaters he feared; Severus was in more danger from the ordinary witches and wizards who still viewed him not as a war hero, but as Albus Dumbledore's murderer.

Remus felt as though he were on a rollercoaster, careening out of control, each up followed by a down, each hope swiftly overcome by a matching despair. And now it looked as though the ride might be fast approaching its end, only Remus didn't have the least idea if it would be a safe one, or if both of them might wind up crashing and burning.

Opening his eyes, he stared into the fire. Happy Christmas, he thought, thinking sadly of his wish of only a few hours before. Now he wasn't certain if there were a miracle big enough in the world to keep his heart from being shattered, or to protect Severus from the truth that awaited him outside the precarious safety of this haven. Remus was trapped in a prison of circumstance, its walls as high and thick as those of Azkaban, and he wondered if this time he would be able to find what he needed to help them both escape.


	5. Chapter 5

"It's ready."

Remus looked up from his book in surprise. Two words, the first two words Severus had spoken to him in nearly a month. Remus had said relatively few himself, all of them of only the most crucial nature, but Severus had limited himself to nothing except looks in response, or perhaps a rare nod or shake of his head. The house was even more silent than it had been when Severus had catatonic, since Remus didn't keep up his running monologue to reassure Severus.

Severus had made noises, but unfortunately they were all in his sleep. The nightmares had returned after their fight, seeming even stronger than they had at first. That first night Remus had tried to ignore the sounds from Severus' bed, the groans and inarticulate cries, knowing that Severus would want his comfort even less now than before. He managed it, though barely, and the next day they'd both been exhausted from the disturbance, going about their tasks like silent zombies. It was no different the second night, and by the third Remus couldn't stand it; even more than the lack of sleep the pain and fear evident in Severus' nightmares tore at his heart, and Remus finally gave in, slipping from his bed and into Severus', pulling Severus' thrashing body into his arms. Severus had relaxed almost at once, turning to Remus and practically sagging in his arms, falling into a deep and restful slumber. Remus had followed not long after, sleeping deeply and dreamlessly but, fortunately, waking before Severus did and moving back to his own bed before there were uncomfortable questions. Or worse.

In daylight hours, Severus shunned him, worse even than during his time at Hogwart's several years ago. It was frustrating, and it hurt, not just because Remus loved him but because Remus honestly thought they had begun to share a connection of sorts, one beyond Severus' fear of being alone. After nearly a month Remus felt almost at the breaking point, the tension simmering between them ready to boil over.

But at night, Remus was sharply reminded that Severus still had problems, that he still suffered from the after-affects of the war and the long confinement in Azkaban. During the night Severus clung to him, his defenses stripped away by sleep and leaving him vulnerable to the terrors which plagued him. Unlike before the nightmares didn't ease away gradually, however; if anything they seemed to worsen as time went by. Severus had said he was going to leave after the potion was brewed, but there was simply no way that Remus could allow it. At least not until Severus could stand to hear the truth and Remus could take him somewhere safe, somewhere to get the treatment he needed that Remus seemed helpless to provide.

The month had taken its toll on Remus as well, his anxiety growing as Severus worked on the potion. Things between them, once so relaxed and peaceful, were now fraught with tension, and as the moon waned, then waxed once more, Remus could feel the wolf closer to the surface. Especially since Severus had refused to brew the Wolfsbane potion, only looking at the simmering cauldron of the cure and raising a disdainful brow at Remus before turning away.

Other than the silence and tension, however, life had continued pretty much as normal. Remus cooked and cleaned, while Severus worked on the potion. When Remus went to the greenhouses Severus accompanied him silently, which was as much a proof to Remus that Severus was not ready as anything else. They were constantly together, and yet seemingly separated by a chasm that Severus refused to cross, and wouldn't allow Remus to. It was an impasse, one that Remus feared would only end in pain for them both.

So now it was the day before the full moon, and Remus knew he would have to head out into the snow again, risking exposure or even death to keep Severus safe. And now it appeared that things had come to a head at last, all the emotions, misunderstandings, and misconceptions coalescing around a single point in time.

Severus was staring at him expectantly, his expression that mask of disdain and haughty aloofness that he wore like a shield, one meant to keep Remus at a distance. Rising from his chair, Remus set aside his book with a silent sigh, then walked toward Severus, not relishing what was to come. Thank Merlin he had never given Severus a wand.

A steaming goblet was in Severus' hand, and he thrust it toward Remus defiantly. It was obviously from his eyes that he expected Remus to take it and down it immediately, but Remus merely stopped a foot away from Severus' outstretched arm, giving him a lopsided smile and shaking his head. 

"I'm sorry, Severus, I'm not going to take it. I can't. You can consider your debt paid, although any debt is only in your own mind. But there is no way I could take it now, but thank you. I appreciate your efforts."

Remus had carefully rehearsed the words in his head, and he delivered them in a gentle tone, one that held no sign of his inner fears and trepidations, nor the frustration he'd felt for the last month at Severus' stubborn refusal to listen, or the pain which twisted in him at the knowledge that his love would never be accepted, only twisted by Severus and flung back at him in anger and denial. Yet it was all he could do, really; he had to keep Severus here, no matter what. Perhaps now that Severus had gotten this out of his system, perhaps if he saw that Remus had told the truth about the potion, he would finally listen.

"What do you mean, you're not going to take it?" Severus asked, scowling fiercely, a line appearing between his brows. "This is what you wanted, what you've wanted from me all along. Take it, damn you, and let me be finished with you once and for all."

"I can't," Remus said again, shrugging. He looked down into the goblet, the deep crimson of the potion looking oddly like blood, and sending tendrils of steam into the air. Remus could smell the Wolfsbane in it, yet the scent in this case was oddly appealing, almost compelling. This was what he had thought he wanted for a very long time - release, one way or another, from the curse which had haunted him for over thirty years. Salvation or oblivion, freedom or eternal darkness. He'd fought the Ministry for it, lost Tonks for it, defied everyone and risked his life and his freedom to rescue Severus in order to obtain it. It was responsible for everything, and meant nothing to him. Not now. Not when Remus knew that it would never give him what he truly wanted out of life, since that was no longer freedom or control. 

He wanted Severus. He wanted Severus to trust him again, to listen. He wanted to explore the possibilities which had been so tantalizingly revealed only a few weeks before. They could be good together, Remus was certain of it. They could make something together that would be strong and beautiful, durable, something to fill the empty places in both their hearts. They could offer each other healing, and forgiveness, solace and purpose. Despite all their apparent differences, Remus knew that deep within they were both alike. Both imprisoned by their darkness, both chained to it by circumstances beyond their control. It was so clear to him, that they could be they ones to set each other free. If only Severus would listen and believe. If only he would accept the truth and let Remus show him. If Severus would only see how much Remus loved him, would take a chance.

Severus' frown deepened, and he thrust the cup toward Remus, the contents sloshing close to the rim. "I don't bloody understand you, Lupin! You've gone to all the trouble to get this, it's what you wanted!"

"I can't and I won't, Severus," Remus said, shrugging slightly, covering his mounting frustration with another wry smile. "As I said, you don't understand, but hopefully someday, you will."

A thunderous expression crossed Severus' face, and he practically snarled as he lifted the cup again. "What, now you're a coward, Lupin? Did you lose your nerve? Are you afraid it will kill you, or are you more afraid that it won't?"

Those words struck a nerve in Remus, and he had to struggle to hold on as a slow burn of genuine anger started within him. He had readily admitted, both to himself and to Severus, that his original motives hadn't been entirely pure or unselfish. But it wasn't like that now, and he certainly wasn't afraid to die; he just now had more reason to want to live, even if the glowering object of his apparently misplaced affections was too bloody stubborn to see it - or, more likely, didn't want to see.

Eyes flashed golden with temper as Remus fought down his feelings. The wolf within always latched on to strong emotion, and the approach of the moon and lack of Wolfsbane was making it harder to control, especially with Severus deliberately goading him. "No, Severus, I'm not afraid to die, or to live. I've merely changed my mind."

"'Change my mind,'" Severus mocked him, then gave a bitter laugh. "No, you're a coward, Lupin. You always have been. Too afraid to take what you want, too afraid of what people will think about you. You're a doormat, have been your whole life. Letting other people use you and take advantage of you, telling yourself that it's nobility and duty and sacrifice!"

"I haven't!" Remus said, his voice taking on a harsh edge, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He should walk away from this conversation, the way that Severus always walked away when he didn't want to talk about something. But he couldn't do that, not when Severus was attacking him like this, not when everything he was or had done was being twisted. "You don't know what you're talking about, Severus! No one uses me!"

"Yes, they do," Severus shot back, his own hand trembling on the goblet, his face flushed and his dark voice becoming a hiss. "You let them use you in school, your so-called friends. You let everyone step on you like the carpet you are, then when things get too tough you run away, hiding behind your poverty and your curse! And now you're running away again, because you probably realized that if it does cure you you'll no longer have anything to hide behind!"

Remus was approaching the breaking point. He could feel it, and yet he was helpless to stop it. Turn away, the voice of reason told him. Turn away now, before you lose control. But that inner conscience was ignored, and Remus trembled, his lips turning white. "If anyone here is running away, Severus, it's you. You're the coward who can't face up to the truth!"

Almost as soon as he said the words, part of Remus regretted them, knowing it was an unfair strike at something Severus couldn't help. But another part, the darker part he'd been trying to quell his whole life, urged him on. No matter his inner war, however, it was too late; Severus blanched before suddenly turning scarlet, a vein in his forehead suddenly pulsing with the depth of his anger. "Don't call me COWARD!" 

It was a shriek of fury, and suddenly Remus' face and eyes were full of crimson as Severus threw the potion in his face. The hot liquid burned, but Remus barely felt it as the wolf within finally snapped.

Hands reached up, curling in Severus' robes as Remus lifted and thrust him back against the wall, the preternatural strength of the wolf making it as easy as lifting a doll. Remus stared up at Severus, feeling the growl rising in his throat, feeling the desire to claim and take and dominate Severus, to punish and force Severus to submit. Oh, yes, the wolf wanted Severus as well, but it wouldn't suffer this defiance, even from the one its other half loved. The wolf wasn't used to tender feelings, but it was very familiar with the raw ones. 

Severus was glaring down at him, obviously still angry but seeming unsurprised by Remus' response. "Go on, then, do it. Kill me. If you've got the guts. It's what you want, so take it!"

The wolf wanted something - Remus wanted something - but it wasn't Severus' death. But an invitation had been issued, and Remus suddenly took it, lowering Severus down and pulling Severus hard against his body. Severus opened his mouth and drew in a breath, no doubt to issue another scathing remark, but Remus didn't give him a chance to make it. Curling a hand behind Severus' neck, he claimed Severus' mouth with his own, thrusting his tongue between those temptingly parted lips, claiming and taking as he had been invited. He could taste Severus, Severus and the odd sweetness of the potion, warmer and sweeter than blood. The wolf liked the combination, and a growl of approval rose in Remus' throat as he devoured Severus' mouth, demanding submission.

Severus' initial reaction to the kiss was a muffled squawk of surprise, and he struggled within the immovable band of Remus' arms, attempting to tear himself away. Hands fisted in Remus' jumper, pushing and pulling, and feet scuffled on the floor in a futile effort to break free. Remus could feel Severus' heart pounding in his chest, but the scent rising from Severus' skin, detectable even through the sweet taint of the potion, wasn't anything like fear, or even anger.

It was desire.

Severus wanted this, wanted him, and Remus' growl intensified, not a warning but a summons, a seduction, beckoning Severus to give in. Slowly Severus did, the struggles ceasing as he began to respond to the kiss, his body going pliant against Remus, his fisted hands loosening to press flat against Remus' chest, then slide downward around Remus' back. He began to kiss Remus back, responding first tentatively, then becoming ardent as his tongue slid against' Remus', giving a soft moan which Remus eagerly swallowed.

The cooperation pleased the wolf, but even if Remus could have reasserted control at that point, he didn't want to. Desire flared between them, hot and intense, fueled by months of uncertainty and anger. While their minds seemed to be unable to get past the impasse, it was quite apparent their bodies had no such problem.

Remus wasn't certain if he pushed Severus to the floor or if Severus pulled him down. Perhaps it was both, but it didn't matter. All that did was the feeling of Severus suddenly beneath him, Remus' body pressing him into the hard floor. The kiss finally broke then, but only so that Remus could move his mouth to Severus' throat, the instincts of the wolf driving him to run his nose along that long, pale column, stopping at the pounding pulse-point below Severus' ear. He could feel Severus' breath hitch, then as Remus growled again Severus tilted his head back, the gesture one the wolf understood, and he took the invitation, teeth bared and then buried in warm, musky flesh, biting down hard enough to leave a bruise on the tender skin.

Severus arched up against him, crying out, his hands pushing beneath Remus' jumper to rake over Remus skin. It felt so good, pleasure mixed with the hint of pain, intensifying Remus' arousal. He wanted this, they both wanted it, and now nothing could stop it, all rational thought gone and only the driving forces of desire and need remaining in its place.

The dark robes parted beneath Remus' hands, buttons popping off and cloth shredding where the fabric couldn't hold against Remus' strength. His own clothing proved no more a problem, and then they were pressed together again, hot skin to hot skin, sliding and straining against each other, striving to be closer, eager to be joined. Enough sense remained to Remus to allow him to grope for where his wand had fallen from the tatters of his trousers, and then with a sharp, growled spell, Severus was ready, his legs wrapping around Remus' hips and urging him on as he claimed Severus in one single, swift thrust.

It was bliss, pure and exquisite, Severus' body tight and hot and welcoming around him. Remus held still for a long, breathless moment, then slowly began to move. Severus groaned, not in pain but in pleasure, then began to move with him, easily catching Remus' rhythm. Reaching between their bodies, Remus curled a hand around Severus, staring down into Severus' face as he stroked in counterpoint, seeking to drive Severus as wild with need as Remus felt.

Severus' eyes were closed, his hands clenched into claws on Remus' shoulders, his pale face flushed and damp. Dark hair clung to the line of his jaw, and his features were tensed as though in concentration as he breathed harshly through parted lips. Remus thought he had never seen anything more seductive, more wanton and tempting in his life, until Severus opened his eyes, and their gazes locked. Remus felt as though he were pitching forward, falling endlessly into the depths of Severus' eyes before they both rose again, hurtling upward together on a wave of mounting pleasure, hovering at the precipice for long, intense moments, hearts pounding in synchrony. Then Severus groaned, eyes going wide before sliding closed, and Remus shattered as he watched Severus coming undone in his arms.

Pleasure consumed Remus, consumed them both, and he gave over to it, swept away by the intensity of pure feeling. It seemed to go on forever and yet was over all too quickly, and Remus collapsed against Severus, then rolled to one side so that Severus wouldn't be crushed. He lay curled against Severus' body, panting, sated and exhausted, listening to Severus' breathing and the slow steadying of his racing heart.

As the wolf and the pleasure both receded, conscience and guilt came swiftly galloping in to take their place. 

Remus' mind was racing much as his heart had been just shortly before. What they had done - what he had done - there was no telling what the consequences would be. He drew in a deep breath, then summoned all his strength to lift himself up so that he could look down into Severus' face.

There was crimson everywhere, the potion smeared on Severus' face and down his body looking alarmingly like blood. Remus hadn't really noticed it once the wolf had asserted control, but now it was painfully apparent. It looked more as if he had torn Severus apart than made love with him, and Remus looked down at Severus soberly. 

"Severus, are you all right?" he asked softly, his voice low and husky. "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't hurt you. I shouldn't have lost control like that. I shouldn't have allowed things to get out of hand, especially..." Remus bit off the rest of the thought. He couldn't risk saying too much about the things Severus didn't know and making Severus retreat from the world again.

Slowly Severus' eyes opened, and he looked at Remus, his expression once again an unreadable mask. There was no sign of the desire Remus had seen before, and Severus pulled away from him, sitting up and turning his face away so that Remus couldn't see him at all.

"No, I'm not all right," Severus replied, and Remus' heart lurched, a sick feeling rolling about in his gut as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Severus wasn't yet finished. "And before you go getting all Gryffindor and guilt-ridden over it, I'm not hurt, emotionally or physically."

Remus blinked, not understanding what Severus could be getting at. If he wasn't hurt, then why wasn't he all right? There was only one way to find out, and he swallowed hard, sitting up and resisting the urge to reach out and lay a hand on Severus' shoulder, wishing that Severus would turn around and face him. Whatever this was, it was no doubt Remus' fault, and he wanted to make it right if he could. "Then what do you mean?"

There was a pause which seemed endless, and then Remus heard Severus' voice, so low that Remus would have had trouble hearing it were his ears not preternaturally acute.

"Albus is dead."

The breath caught in Remus' throat. Severus was remembering something, although how much and why now were still a mystery. Yet Remus knew that this must be painful, no matter how the revelation had come about, and Severus needed to be handled gently. "Yes, he is," he replied softly.

"I killed him."

There was a universe of pain in those words, although to someone who didn't know Severus, they might have sounded wooden, almost lifeless. But Remus could hear the emptiness in that normally silken tone and read it for what it truly was: a cry from a gravely wounded heart.

"Yes." Remus sighed. "But it wasn't your fault. Albus made you do it. You don't have to feel guilty, Severus. You don't have to punish yourself."

Remus wasn't certain if Severus heard, although he saw Severus shudder once, short and sharp. "I went to prison, and you rescued me. I was dying, and you saved me. I was trapped in the darkness, and you brought me back to the light."

"I... did what I needed to do," Remus replied. "Severus... do you remember everything, then? All of it?"

"Yes." A single word, short and to the point, too brief a summation for the last few months. "You can take the potion now, Lupin. There is no need to hold back for my sake, out of some misguided thought that I won't survive without you. You and your damned Gryffindor nobility. Get out of here - I don't need you any more, and I want to be... alone."

"What?"

Remus couldn't believe what he was hearing. After all of this, after everything, Severus wanted to dismiss him? Wanted him to take the potion and possibly die as a result? Whatever in the hell was going on with Severus, whatever he remembered, it was clear that Severus didn't understand at all.

Placing a hand on Severus' shoulder, Remus forced him to turn around. Severus' eyes were downcast, and there was a slump of defeat about him that Remus didn't like one bit. It was too reminiscent of the way he had found Severus in Azkaban, and it wasn't right. It wasn't Severus, not the proud, stubborn, insufferable prat who could stand up to Dark Lords or the Wizengamot and spit in their eyes. It wasn't the man who had railed at Remus for being ignorant and selfish, or the one who had listened to the wolf howl at the moon. In short, it wasn't Severus, the man whom Remus loved, and Remus would be damned if Severus was going to run away again into the prison of his own mind.

"No, you do not want to be alone," Remus said, his tone sharp. "Damn you, Severus, look at me! I'm not here out of any sense of nobility, or guilt, or even because I think you wouldn't get on without me. I'm here because I bloody well want to be here, and if you can't get that through your thick skull, then you are far more stubborn and far, far less intelligent than I know to be!"

Severus' eyes snapped up at that, boring into Remus', and Remus was very glad to see the spark of annoyance in them. "Any thick skull around here is obviously yours, Lupin! I think I know what I want!"

"I think you do, too," Remus agreed. "So why don't you be honest with me and tell me what it is? Or are you still deceiving yourself, living in a prison of your own making?"

"Be honest?" Severus' brows lowered, and his face took on a harsh cast, pain clouding his dark eyes. They looked haunted, but Remus thought he also detected more than a hint of self-disgust . "All right, Lupin, you want honest, I'll give it to you. I've been aware of the truth for some time now - actually since the beginning, but I just couldn't face it. I couldn't face living with what I had done. I was weak, Lupin. I thought I didn't need anyone, and then when they put me in that cell and I was really alone for the first time in my life, all I had time to do was think. Think about all the mistakes I had made. Think about the people who cared about me in my life - damned few of them as they were - and the fact that each and every one of them died. I got to think long and particularly hard about my mistakes, about the people I had pushed away who might have been close to me. But I had to protect myself, you know, and I did! I protected myself right into a cell in Azkaban, and that was when I realized I just didn't care anymore if I lived or died. I had nothing left to live for, but killing myself was just too much trouble, so I gave up and let my jailers do it for me. And happy enough they were to oblige!"

Stunned at the revelations, at the outpouring of so much personal agony, Remus looked at Severus solemnly. The self-loathing in Severus' tone was painful to hear, and Remus tightened his grip on Severus' shoulder. "Look, Severus, we all make mistakes, and we all give in to despair; Merlin knows I've been there myself, I know what it's like to want to give up. I suppose I was lucky enough to not end up in a cell where I couldn't find any way out of my problems. You suffered more than you should have, and you didn't deserve to go to prison. Severus, it's not your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself!" Remus' voice was low and urgent, an appeal. He didn't want Severus to give up again. He wanted Severus to fight to live.

"Did you hear me, Lupin?" Severus asked, his tone scathing. "I was running away from the truth I knew in my heart. That fugue I was in... I wanted to die because of all my mistakes. I wanted to punish myself so that I wouldn't have to face myself in the mirror and realize that everything I had ever thought or believed meant nothing. Doesn't that disgust you, Lupin? It should, because it certainly disgusts me."

"No, it doesn't," Remus replied softly. "You were despairing, you withdrew - I can understand the temptation, given your circumstances. But you came out of it. It's over."

"Is it?" Severus asked bitterly. "I came out of it because you were planning to abandon me to strangers. You told me that, I heard it, and I... I couldn't bear to go, to face people poking at me, asking me questions, gawking at me and not allowing me to die! I was using you, don't you understand that? Yet I still couldn't face Albus' death, despite the things you were saying about forgiveness. I don't forgive easily. Not even for myself. I couldn't die, and I wasn't ready to live, so I lied to us both to keep you here."

Remus shook his head, his heart wrenching. Severus, so alone, hating himself so much that he couldn't just ask for help; he had to rationalize it somehow. But Remus had been there, too, in the cold dark nights after James and Lily had died. He had lied to himself that he could have saved them, twisting himself up in a self-hatred that had almost destroyed him. It had taken him a long time to recover from it, and he, too, had been unable and unwilling to ask for help, because he didn't consider himself worthy of it. 

"I'm sure in retrospect you feel as though you were being deliberately manipulative, but I don't think that's the case. God, Severus, you're talking to a man who is a master at self-deception! You think I don't understand that sometimes the only way to survive is to tell yourself and everyone else lies? My lycanthropy... do you know how it shamed me? It still does, too. I can't come out and just tell anyone I'm a werewolf, because I know what they'll think of me. So I lie to myself and pretend that if I cover it up, it doesn't exist. I've lied by omission more times than I can count, so I'm the last one to blame you for that!"

Severus looked disbelieving, and then he laughed, a mocking sound that would have sounded derisive had there not been a hitch in his breath to show just how hard this was on him. "Then you are as weak as I am, Lupin, and I'm sick of being weak. I hate the fact that I was afraid - afraid to let you out of my sight, because then I would be alone with my thoughts again. It was easier to lie to myself by lying to you, by letting myself pretend that Albus was still alive, that the world didn't loathe me as much as I loathed myself. How pathetic that I actually wanted to believe that the war was still on and I had a reason to go on living my pathetic excuse for a life. Maybe you don't hate yourself for that, but I can't stand it!"

Shaking his head again, Remus sighed. "I know what it's like to hate myself, but eventually you learn to forgive yourself, too. You just have to give yourself permission, to accept the fact that you aren't perfect. You're a strong man Severus, you've always been. But even strong men have moments of weakness. Even fiercely independent ones need other people. It's no crime, and it's not a reflection on you. If anything, it just shows you that you're human."

"A fine analysis, coming from a lycanthrope," Severus shot back. 

"Severus, I want to help you," Remus replied, his voice soothing, the jibes not riling him this time because it was all too easy to see that Severus was pushing him away, trying to protect himself again. Pushing because Severus truly didn't know how to ask for what he wanted, since he was absolutely certain he would always be denied.

"You wanted to use me. That's all you've wanted all along!" Severus' face was turning red. "You've wanted that damned potion, and you used me to get it. You can talk about help all you want, and once I might have believed it, but it wasn't me you were worried about, it was yourself! And now you've lost your courage, so you're telling yourself I need help. Well, I don't, not any more. I'll be fine without you. I don't need some damned hovering werewolf watching over me!"

"I think you do." Remus smiled gently. He loved Severus, and even if Severus didn't know it, Remus couldn't deny him what he wanted or needed. He just wished he knew how to convince Severus it was the truth. "I'm not leaving, Severus. I told you that before. I don't want the potion. I want to stay, and I want to help you."

"Shut up!" Severus snarled, attempting to wrest his shoulder free of Remus' grip. "I'm not your problem any more, damn it! So go on, do what you've wanted to do all along - take the potion and leave me!"

Remus held on to Severus, and Severus fought back in earnest this time, trying to make it to his feet so the he could get away. But Remus was having none of it; if Severus remembered everything and was still here, fighting back, then he wasn't as fragile as Remus had thought him to be. Perhaps Remus was mistaken about what he hoped all this meant, mistaken in thinking that Severus must feel something for him, but the time for dissembling was now past. They needed to have this out and have it out now so that Severus would accept that Remus really meant it, just as Severus had needed to get all of his doubts and fears out in the open, so that Remus could show him they weren't nearly as bad as he had believed.

Grasping Severus' shoulders, Remus bore him once more to the ground, pressing him down none too gently into the hard boards of the floor. Severus pushed and pulled, clawing and trying to strike out, but he didn't have either Remus' strength or experience in dirty fighting. For once, his time among the werewolves, learning their ways and fighting for dominance, was actually proving helpful, and Remus silently blessed Albus for that long-ago mission.

"Stop it!" Remus commanded sternly, in a voice of command - an Alpha voice, one he had never used outside of a lycanthrope pack. Severus stopped, looking up at him in surprise and sullen resentment, but Remus could handle that, so long as Severus listened.

"Let me go," Severus said again, but there was less defiance in it. Remus was straddling his hips and had his arms pinned above his head, so no doubt Severus was coming to realize the futility of his struggles. Yet struggle he did, to no avail, until Remus growled.

"Stay still and listen!" Remus said, trying to get Severus past the "fight or flight" response. Since Remus hadn't allowed him to either slip into his emotional cocoon or run away, hopefully now the stubborn git would finally be willing to hear what Remus had to say.

Severus stared up at him, his expression sullen, but he finally relaxed against Remus' grip. "Fine, I'm listening," he replied. "Hurry up and say what you think you have to say, so that I can finally be finished with you!"

Remus almost smiled at the comment, but he didn't slack up on his grip. Severus was Slytherin enough to try to slip away if Remus wasn't vigilant, and there was no way Remus was going to let that happen.

"All right, I'll be quick, since you have so many pressing engagements." Remus' voice held a hint of humor, and Severus frowned. "What I wanted to say is exactly what I've said before, but so far you haven't listened. Severus, I'm here because I want to be here. I don't want to take the potion because I don't wish to risk dying. And it's not because I'm afraid to die, or afraid to live, or whatever excuses you've come up with in that head of yours to try to explain what you so desperately don't want to understand. I want to live because I want to stay with you. Not because you need me. Not because you'll be alone without me. Not even because I'm afraid you'll die and I'd feel guilty for it. I love you, you insufferable prat, and even if you spit in my eye and tell me to go away, I'm not going to do it!"

Severus blinked in obvious surprise, then his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he seemed to run Remus' declaration through the paranoia filter in his head. Finally he shook his head, his lips twisted into a bitter line. "You don't mean that, Lupin. Now you're the one trying to manipulate me!"

"No." Remus sighed, shaking his head. "I mean every word of it. And I'm just arrogant enough to think you might feel something for me, too. Something other than hatred and contempt, that is. But you're still too stubborn to admit that you might need anyone else. That you might need me."

Severus' gaze fell away again. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then let me show you," Remus said. Leaning down, he nipped at the soft, exposed flesh on the side of Severus' neck, satisfied when he heard Severus draw in a breath, the scent of desire rising immediately from Severus' skin like the scent from the petals of a flower. He hadn't imagined the attraction or Severus' intense reaction to his lovemaking. "We were getting along so well, Severus, until you found that damned potion manuscript. Even though that stupid potion started all of this, it's not going to end it. Not if you don't want it to. I know that I don't, and even if you're not afraid to be alone any longer, I don't want to leave you. I'm not going to leave you. And I'm not going to die; the war is over. I think we could make a go of it. Of something, now that you've got your memories back. Or are willing to acknowledge them, at least."

The words were murmured into Severus' skin, and Remus felt Severus shudder slightly as his breath ghosted over it, light and teasing. Remus lifted his head once more. "Please, Severus, won't you consider it? If you do remember everything, you know that I can't go back, not after breaking you out. You probably could if you wanted to, since Veritaserum would prove that you didn't break out on your own, but I'd rather that you stayed with me. I love you, I'll protect you; we can protect each other. We'll have to leave England, of course, but I don't care where we go, so long as you are with me." Remus' voice was full of entreaty, and he sighed, wondering if he were wrong, if Severus really didn't feel something for him, no matter how small. "If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you know I'm sincere but there isn't any chance for us at all, I'll let you go. But I'd much rather that you said we could try. Please, Severus, just look at me!"

Slowly, so slowly, Severus turned his head, looking at Remus with an oddly pensive expression. "You know I'm telling the truth," Remus went on coaxingly, smiling at Severus and letting his heart show naked in his eyes, unafraid and unashamed. "You're a Legilimens, Severus, and I'm not afraid to meet your eyes and let you see that I want this... I want you. As surprising and unlikely as it might seem, there isn't anything I want more than to be here for you, to help you find what you need. We can heal each other, fill up the empty places for each other. You don't have to be alone, and together, we'll find reasons to go on living. I'm not asking for romance, Severus, or for hearts and flowers. Just for a chance. A chance for both of us. Please say yes."

For a moment, Remus thought Severus might refuse, that he would admit he believed Remus' intentions were good but that he didn't want anything more to do with him. There was doubt in Severus' eyes, and he searched Remus' face, although Remus couldn't tell if it was because Severus didn't believe him, or that he didn't want to believe. Remus felt his heart stop, wondering if he had gone too far, if Severus wasn't ready to admit he needed anyone else, either to Remus or to himself. 

Then Severus sighed, a shudder wracking his body. "Fine, Lupin. No doubt I'll regret it, but I've tolerated you this long. I suppose if you weren't really using me for the potion all along, perhaps things could continue. At least until I get a wand again and can hex you out of my misery."

For a moment, Remus just stared, and then he burst into laughter, the sound one of relief and genuine happiness, and he felt almost giddy with it. Severus, yes, it was still Severus in there, despite all the pain and denial, despite the self-loathing and the doubts. No tender words, but Remus didn't need them. It was enough that Severus would stay, that he would try. That he would live and let Remus be a part of whatever that life would be. 

There was still a great deal they needed to discuss, so many things they needed to work out between them, but it seemed the immediate crisis was over. Remus could handle that, he knew. One day at a time, just as they had done before, slow steps toward healing; and now that they would be working together, Remus had no doubt they would succeed. Someday, perhaps, Severus would accept his love fully. Perhaps if he were very lucky, Severus might even return it. At least Severus didn't seem to want to reject him physically, and that was a good start. Enough, as Albus would have said, to be going on with.

"What's so funny?" Severus asked as Remus released his arms and rolled to one side, freeing Severus. His tone was a trifle irritated, though Remus wasn't certain if it was from the laughter or from the loss of contact. Daring to hope it was the latter, he pulled Severus into his arms, gratified when Severus relaxed against him, rather than struggling. No stone walls between them, not any longer, and no prisons or cages for either of them, not ever again.

"Angels alone," Remus murmured, his eyes soft with affection, and he was rewarded by a scowl.

"You're no angel, Lupin," Severus replied, shaking his head and giving a snort of derision. "And don't dare even think it in relation to me. I'm much more likely to give you hell than heaven, and you'll no doubt deserve it."

"No doubt," Remus replied, then leaned down slowly to claim Severus' lips in a deep kiss, one full of every bit of his love. Severus responded to the kiss, a hand sliding behind Remus' neck to urge him closer, the language of Severus' body admitting to needs that Severus would never, ever voice aloud. 

Angels or not, they were both finally free, and Remus intended that they would both enjoy that liberty - and each other - for the rest of their lives.


End file.
